Sydney, Australia: Monday, October 11; 12:25 A.M. [Day 2]:

Victor's gaze remained fixed on the window, his eyes narrowing slightly as another citizen aircraft in the distance descended. The hummer's tires rumbled over the cracked asphalt, but his focus remained on the darkened sky. The aircraft's blinking wing lights flickered in a rhythmic pattern, casting a faint, eerie glow against the towering backdrop of jagged buildings. The city seemed to breathe in the night—a silent, metallic expanse, steel shadows and glass stretching long in every direction. There was something ominous about the muteness, the way everything hummed with potential danger yet loomed still.

Inside the armored vehicle, the silence between Victor and his two agents felt suffocating. The only sound was his fingers lightly tapping against the door handle. This unconscious gesture revealed a winding tension through his every muscle. His eyes remained on the horizon, but his thoughts were elsewhere, and he considered the unfolding situation with a sharp focus.

Breaking the silence, Victor turned his gaze to Raven, his voice cutting through the quiet with a touch of cold steel. "What prompted you to call her parents, Raven?"

Sitting across the way, Raven didn't flinch and merely shifted his gaze to meet his superior's eyes, the shadows in the vehicle deepening the sharp angles of his face.

"The video file on the USB drive," Raven replied, his voice steady but carrying an edge of weariness. "Tatyana knew I would be watching and pleaded for me to call them. If anyone can help her, it's them. We're close but don't know Ty as well as they do."

Victor's mouth pressed into a thin line, his expression unreadable. The words hung in the air between them as they sunk in, the gravity of their meaning not lost on him. His fingers stopped their rhythmic tapping, instead curling slightly against the door's cold, metal surface.

"Noted..." Victor's low, almost thoughtful voice responded. "I just hope they don't misunderstand when they get here."

The hummer lurched as it turned a corner. The shift in movement hardly seemed to bother Ralin, who had been contemplating out the other window. After a moment, she sighed audibly, her breath a soft exhale that seemed to resonate with the weight of the situation.

"Let's hope all goes well... or as well as possible."

Her murmur was tinged with uncertainty and a grim acceptance.

Raven's brow furrowed, a flicker of curiosity passing over his usually composed features while glancing at Ralin, sensing an undercurrent of concern. "You worried about arguing with them?"

Ralin's eyes never left the window, but her shoulders showed a noticeable tension. "No... For this not to grow any worse."

The situation's unspoken weight pressed onto the trio, a constant, oppressive presence in the armored hummer as it barreled through the night. Victor's hand gripped the door, his knuckles turning pale, but his resolve remained unwavering. The rooftop meeting was coming soon—an unpredictable encounter with the parents of a missing operative, the potential for conflict looming.

UN Australian HQ [Rooftop] - 12:53 A.M.:

Victor stood rigidly, his hands clasped behind his back. The sharp bite of the cold wind cut through his suit jacket and seeped into his bones, but he held his stance unflinchingly. Behind him, Raven and Ralin stood at attention, their postures sharp as steel. A jet streaked across the sky above, its engines roaring, before two dark figures appeared, descending with precision. They landed effortlessly, crouching momentarily before rising to their full height.

Kevon and Emani stood before them, their gazes fixed, hostile, and unyielding.

Kevon's mission suit was an intimidating sight—primarily black with flashes of dark red. His armored tabi boots made a muted clink as they touched the ground, and metal knee pads glinted under the faint light. His O-yoroi ninja pants rustled with movement, each step a whisper of deadly precision. A line of gold swirls, reminiscent of Raven's suit, wrapped up his right leg, vanishing beneath his red belt. His armored vest and cropped jacket hung loosely, yet they radiated authority. The dark red scarf around his neck fluttered like a flag in the wind, its edges burned and frayed. His fingerless gloves barely concealed the deadly weapon folded within his grasp. The communication device perched in his left ear while a red monocle glowed faintly over his left eye. The cone-shaped metal hat on his head had a neon red brim that pulsed with the Unit symbol engraved at its edge.

Emani was a stark contrast, her dark purple mission suit hugging her frame with an almost predatory grace. The white glowing lines of her suit traced a delicate, glowing pattern that ran up her body, stopping just short of the high collar. Her boots clicked firmly against the ground, the armored knee guards offering elegance and protection. A belt adorned with the Unit symbol cinched her waist, and two Wakizashi blades rested sheathed on her back. Her gloves were light but reinforced, and the metal collar around her neck hummed with a soft purple glow, matching the headband that held her dark hair back. The metal plates on her shoulders were engraved with the same Unit symbol, completing her formidable look.

Victor's voice broke the tense silence, though it betrayed a hint of nervousness. "Emani, Kev—"

"We get woken up at damn near four in the morning to find out our daughter has a Wanted Notice on her head!" Kevon erupted with seething fury. "And not a single phone call from you!"

Emani's voice followed, sharp and cutting with an intensity that could burn through steel. "There better be a good explanation for why we had to find out like every other agent! What the hell, Vic!?"

The tension in Victor's chest tightened as he cleared his throat. "We were dealing with the situation, and I didn't have much time to—"

Emani rolled her eyes and scoffed. "You have our numbers on speed dial, and not once did it cross your mind to call during this whole mess!"

"I want to know why she has this on her head in the first place!" Kevon barked. "What could she have possibly done to have—"

"Enough!" Ralin stepped forward, her voice demandingly sharp as she locked gazes with the older couple. "I get that you're livid and have every right to be. But now isn't the time to vent at Vic. He's just as pissed about this as you are. Ty is out there, and she needs our help."

Kevon's eyes narrowed, dark as the storm clouds gathering in the distance. His gaze flicked from Ralin to Victor. "We're waiting."

Victor paused, the weight of their stares pressing on him. "Following Devil Jin's attack, Aron tampered with Tatyana's scanner. She attacked Raven after awakening and has since gone rogue. I didn't want it to come to this, but I had no choice but to send out the Wanted Notice after seeing live footage of her killing several UN soldiers."

The following silence was thick with disbelief, and the couple's eyes were unreadable and unmoving. They didn't buy it.

Raven stepped forward and, in a fluid motion, tossed a USB drive in Kevon's direction. The small device gleamed in the dim light, silently offering proof.

Kevon and Emani exchanged a brief look, their expressions tight before the former's grudging but resigned voice broke the silence again. "Alright."

Underground Watch Room Lounge - 1:54 A.M.:

The video ended, leaving the room thick with silence—one that carried weight, pressing down on everyone present. The atmosphere had shifted; this wasn't just Raven's burden anymore. The undeniable reality of Tatyana's situation had settled into the bones of those who loved her most.

Raven kept his eyes downcast, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he leaned against the wall. The tension in his body was impossible to hide, his fingers gripping at his sleeves. The sound of her scream still echoed in his mind, an agonizing reminder of what she was enduring. It made his stomach knot, made his blood simmer with frustration. He hated hearing it—hated that it was real, that it was her. He could only imagine her parents' feelings if it was tearing him up inside.

All he wanted was to hold her, to promise her everything would be okay.

'Impossible now, unfortunately...'

Across the room, Kevon and Emani sat close together on the couch against the wall, their postures stiff. Kevon's breathing was measured but shallow, his tense arms betraying the turmoil beneath his composed exterior. The long sleeves beneath his armored vest did little to hide the flex of his muscles as he clenched his fists on his knees.

After a long, slow inhale, he finally spoke, his voice thick with restrained emotion. "You weren't kidding... What's happened to our child?"

Emani, still staring at the blank screen where the footage had played, felt the weight in her chest sink deeper. Shock had been the first reaction. Taking its place was heartbreak. Her fingers gripped the fabric of her pants. "And this happened... last night?"

"In Warsaw," Raven confirmed, finally pulling himself off the wall. "She promptly took down Bishop and his men, even tipped off Lidia about where to find his underground stash of stolen trophies. Now, she's going after the Mechanic—Toby Greene. He's one of Nina's accomplices, specializing in vehicles."

Kevon exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples, then let his hands drop while sitting back. He tilted his head against the wall with an unreadable expression. "She made the right call, telling you to call us." His gaze shifted toward Raven, softening just enough to reveal gratitude. "Thank you, Raven."

Raven shook his head, shifting his weight. "No need to thank me."

Victor, who had been quiet, finally stepped forward and pulled the USB drive from the control panel. The tiny device felt heavier than it should have—just like the situation. "We need a plan to detain her. The farthest we've gotten is the handcuffs we'll use."

Emani tapped her fingers against her chin, her analytical mind already piecing things together. "A minor detail, but do we know where she's heading in Australia?"

The room held its collective breath, waiting for an answer none wanted but needed.

1:50 A.M.:

A motorcycle's engine roared and echoed through Sydney's sparse streets. Master Raven lowered to the bike, her long dreads flailing in the wind behind her as the speed increased.

83 MPH

85 MPH

86 MPH

The world faded into a streaked blur of lights around her. Master Raven looked upward, her eyes identifying the UN building mere yards away. In a sudden motion, she pulled the brake and skidded to a stop on the gravel shoulder, a spray of dust and smoke swirling around her. Her jaw tightened, and her chest suddenly felt heavier as the death grip on the throttle loosened with a shaky hand. Fresh tears began pooling in her eyes.

"You can't. Not now..."

"Not now? Pathetic. Now would be the perfect time to see how far we can take this. Don't you want to—"

"Shut up," Master Raven shot back tiredly, her eyes snapping shut as she forced her tears back down. "Not..." Pulling the throttle, the kunoichi resumed her trek. "Now..."

A shadow stood on the roof of a building, a warm wind ruffling the gray trench coat draping its upper body. A pair of purple eyes blinked with a focused stare, but a triumphant smirk formed on a male's face.

Aron glimpsed at his wristwatch, listening to the calm tick. "One down, two to go. Now, I won't have to worry about Toby's useless rants of childish fear. All that's left to do is watch the chaos unfold. Only a matter of time before I send the rest of the flock a message."

Master Raven tore through the tunnel's winding streets, the engine humming like a caged predator beneath her. She leaned left, her body tight against the bike as she slid behind a sluggish truck. Two police cruisers blazed past, their sirens silent but their presence unmistakable. She exhaled through her nose, relieved but unamused.

A mocking laugh slithered through her mind, laced with smugness.

'I'm starting to hate the sound of my voice.'

The city blurred past as she rode for miles, weaving through the maze of urban sprawl before exiting the highway. The towering skyline gave way to skeletal structures—unfinished buildings and rusted cranes standing like forgotten sentinels. The construction site was quiet, except for the occasional wind blowing up loose gravel.

Her path led her to a forgotten tunnel, its entrance choked with overgrown weeds and faded graffiti. She rolled inside, the distant drip of leaking pipes echoing in the darkness. The dim beam of her headlights guided her to a garage door, its surface coated in years of dust and neglect.

Master Raven's sharp gaze swept over the surrounding bricks, hunting for a particular imperfection. Her eyes landed on it—an old slash mark etched into cracked, polished brick. Sliding off her bike, she approached, flipping open a hidden panel. A single button lay inside.

Click.

The garage door rose without a sound, revealing a compact but efficient hideout. The space was large enough to store a vehicle, and a built-in elevator was at the back. It smelled faintly of old steel and sharpening oil.

Master Raven placed a hand on her hip, eyes scanning the room. "Dad should clean these spots out. It almost seems too easy."

A workshop lined with blades and weaponry sat waiting at the far end, gleaming under dim lighting. A worn couch rested in the center, facing a wall-mounted surveillance system. A mini-fridge, likely filled with rations or expired energy drinks, sat in the corner.

"Blah, blah, blah. What's the plan? I'm bored. We're killing Toby, right?"

The voice was impatient, curling around her thoughts like an unwelcome guest. Master Raven ignored it and stepped onto the elevator. The platform registered her weight instantly, lifting her to the next level with practiced ease. The bedroom above was practical yet spacious, designed for efficiency rather than comfort. A large enough area to train, a modest walk-in closet, and an armory lined one side of the room. Pinned to the opposite wall were two maps—one of Sydney, another of Perth, marked with a date: 10/5/1999. Her eyes flicked to an armor stand beside the bed, where her father's old mission suit rested, a silent relic of his years before reaching Jōnin rank. Nearby, a narrow passage opened to a catwalk high above the sewer system, leading back to the city's underbelly.

"Hmm..."

She moved to the desk beneath the map, her fingers tracing the lines of the streets. Her gaze landed on a building near the red dot marking her location. Pulling the laptop from her duffel, she powered it up and quickly scanned the area through street view.

'Typical buildings... Nothing here—'

A motorcycle dealership stood just a few miles away. Her eyebrow arched as information and images filled the screen. "Perfect. Now, for a plan..."

"Why bother? I already have one—simple! Find Toby and kill him. He deserves it."

Master Raven rolled her eyes. "He already knows what I look like. I need something different."

Her gaze flickered to the metallic mask resting on the armor stand. A faint, dimmed stripe ran along the left side. The gears in her mind clicked into place.

"That's tediously boring. Let me do it!"

She reached for the mask, her fingers brushing over the stripe.

Beep.

A bright green line ignited, tracing the marking. Master Raven slipped the mask over her face, adjusting it as the light shifted from green to a deep, ominous red—matching the glow of her right eye. She tilted her head slightly, testing the fit.

"Not bad..." Her voice was now heavily distorted, warped into something cold, mechanical, and unfamiliar. "This could use some tuning."

"I'll return when things get interesting."

Bzzt.

She winced but ignored the irritating sting at the back of her skull. It was just noise, nothing more than background interference that wouldn't matter.

Not yet, anyway.

Perth, Australia - Mech's Mod Shop; 3:44 A.M.:

Click!

"It was just hours ago that Polish Armed Forces and Prime Minister Lidia Sobieska finally detained the infamous Bishop. The once untouchable Jacob Ares was found at his home, hanging from the stolen chandelier art piece from Beijing, China. All thanks to a UN agent who is also—"

Toby scoffed and rolled his eyes, barely noticing the reporter's voice crackling from the old TV in the corner. With beer in one hand and car keys in the other, he pushed himself off the couch annoyedly.

"Fucking bastard... I told him. But of course, nobody listens to an Aussie." He took a swig from his bottle, the bitter taste doing little to soothe his irritation. "At least I can outrun 'em. Ninjas are ninjas, but nothing beats wheels."

His gaze drifted across the dimly lit garage, where his crew worked hard on his latest escape plan: a modified 2024 Cadillac Escalade. Its sleek, bulked-up matte-black frame with reinforced armor plating and freshly mounted automatic weapons along the sides gleamed under the flickering overhead lights. A thick wire cable snaked from the hood to a nearby workbench, where a laptop displayed diagnostic readings.

Toby smirked. 'This baby's gonna tear through any roadblock they set up.'

"Aye!" His voice cut through the low hum of power tools.

One of his men turned, wiping grease off his hands. He was a stocky man with a simple red mohawk and a black goatee. His denim vest sported white skidmark designs across the shoulders and collar.

"Yeah?"

"Where's Travi and Cargo?" Toby asked, swirling the last of his beer before taking another gulp.

The mohawked man shrugged. "They said they might not make it to the race. Stuck at a gas stop off Kenrie Road, having trouble supping it up with the Nitrous kit and whatnot."

Toby sighed, rubbing his forehead. 'Fucking amateurs.' "Can one of you guys call them back? I need new blood. We gotta run soon, and I don't mean setting up shop elsewhere."

"On it!" another guy called from behind, already pulling out his phone.

Toby looked at the armored Escalade, his fingers tightening around his keys. He had no intention of getting apprehended in the same trap that took Bishop down. If the UN wanted him, they'd have to catch him first.

Quik Fuel Gas Station:

Master Raven pulled into the empty lot of a well-lit gas station, the steady hum of her motorcycle filling the quiet night. She instinctively pulled the cap tighter over her head, knowing the nearby security camera was already tracking her movement. Its mechanical eye zoomed in with silent curiosity.

She set the bike's kickstand down with a practiced motion and stilled as voices carried through the cool air. Across the lot, a group of men crowded around an open car hood, arguing over the engine's issues. Wrenches clanked, an occasional burst of laughter cutting through their bickering. Two other guys leaned against their customized cars, arms crossed, waiting impatiently.

Master Raven's sharp gaze flicked to the red embroidery stitched into the dark green vests they all wore:

Mech's Body Shop

'Interesting.'

Ignoring them for now, she entered the gas station shop, her boots tapping against the tiled floor. She brought a USB drive to the counter and slid it across to the cashier.

The man—middle-aged, unshaven, and unimpressed with life—sighed as he rang her up, barely suppressing his irritation. "Again, I gotta deal with these idiots."

"That group outside?" Master Raven gestured subtly through the window.

The cashier flinched at her voice's robotic distortion before chuckling and shaking his head. He slid the USB drive back across the counter. "Yeah, you kids and your fancy voice mods. Those guys always bring trouble. I've told 'em off a million times, but they keep coming back."

She slipped the drive into her pocket. "Guess they know a good spot when they see it. You know them?"

"Toby and his so-called workers—more like reckless street racers. They're the talk of the town, always pulling off these crazy, high-speed races and drawing police attention. Not that it ever matters. They either outrun the cops or crash and burn."

Bzzt.

A smirk formed beneath her mask as something inside her clicked into place. "Sounds fun."

The cashier snorted. "Be my guest. Those guys are bug-nuts crazy. If you're smart, you'll steer clear. If you're stupid, you'll get mixed up in their mess. They've got more crimes to answer for than I can count—and more than a few bodies to their name."

Master Raven didn't respond. She turned on her heel and exited the shop, her eyes already locked on the crew by their cars as she walked back to her motorcycle.

Time to introduce herself.

The group huddled around the sleek, low-slung beast of a car, its midnight-blue paint gleaming under the harsh gas station lights. The hood propped open, exposing the machine's guts—coils, pistons, and tangled wiring—while a faint smell of burnt rubber and gasoline lingered in the night air.

Cargo, a broad-shouldered man with a shaved head and hazel eyes, rested an elbow on the front fender, his brows furrowed in frustration. Luna, a wiry woman with oil streaks on her hands, bit her lip, tools clanking in her grip as she worked. Travi stood nearby, arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Luna, please tell me you know what you're doing," Travi groaned.

"Shut up and let me think for a sec!" she snapped, wrench slipping as she cursed under her breath.

Cargo shook his head, rubbing a hand down his face. "Mate, how the hell did you mess up a perfect Bass 700? A one-of-a-kind! If Toby finds out you botched the—"

"Having trouble there?"

The group froze at the smooth, distorted voice and instantly whipped around. A tall figure stood several feet away, arms casually resting in the pockets of a sleeveless burgundy hoodie. Her long dreadlocks swayed as she tilted her head, and the faint red glow from her mask's visor flickered in the dim light. She wore a red cap pulled low over her face, jeans, and scuffed combat boots that spoke of miles traveled.

Travi's expression twisted into a sneer. "Unless you know a thing or two..." He flexed his fingers before sliding a brass knuckle onto his hand. "I suggest you keep walking, mate."

Bzzt.

Master Raven resisted the urge to knock his teeth in with a well-placed punch using his brass knuckles. Instead, she exhaled through her nose and glanced at the car.

"Equus Bass 700," she stated evenly, glancing over the vehicle. "6.2-liter supercharged V8 engine. 640 horsepower at 6500 rpm. 605 lb-ft of torque at 3800 rpm. 6-speed rear-mounted dual-clutch transmission. 0 to 60 in 3.4 seconds. Top speed of 200 miles per hour. First of its kind, right?"

The crew exchanged glances, eyes widening slightly in surprise and approval.

Cargo leaned off the fender, nodding. "You sure know your stuff. Fellow gearhead or just a hobby?"

"Bit of a gearhead."

"People 'round here don't offer help for free unless they're dumb, desperate, or looking for a thrill. Which one are you?"

Master Raven rolled her neck, cracking a few joints. "A little of each. What I want is information. I need to find the Mechanic."

Cargo's grin widened. "Bold. I like her already. Tell you what—help us fix this beauty, and we'll let you run her in tonight's race. Sound fair?"

She chuckled, stepping closer. "What's wrong with her?"

Travi frowned, jabbing a finger at Cargo. "We can't keep inviting strangers—"

"Aw, shut up, Travi," Cargo waved him off. "The Mech said we need fresh blood. Anyway, we gotta loosen the suspension and rewire the nitrous kit to the second shift near the wheel."

Master Raven crouched slightly, running a gloved hand along the car's sleek body. "Custom shift mod?"

"Correct."

"Easy fixes." She cracked her knuckles. "You probably just need to loosen the axle springs on the back wheels and connect circulation pipes to the nitrous kit."

Cargo and his crew's skepticism laced with growing curiosity. The mystery woman had walked up to them like she belonged, and now she was spouting off precise modifications like she'd built the damn car herself. That kind of confidence wasn't something you faked—not in their world.

Luna scoffed. "Alright, gearhead. Let's see if you can back up that talk."

Master Raven took that as an invitation. She stepped forward, her presence imposing yet smooth, and crouched beside the car's rear wheel. A glance at the setup confirmed her suspicions—whoever had last worked on this beast had over-tightened the axle springs, throwing off the balance.

'Rookie mistake.'

Reaching into the open toolbox, she grabbed a wrench and got to work. The crew watched as she loosened the springs with practiced efficiency, her movements quick and decisive. Within moments, the suspension sagged slightly, falling into the proper position.

Luna folded her arms. "Lucky guess."

Master Raven didn't acknowledge her, already moving on to the nitrous system. She slid under the car's underbelly, her fingers tracing the tubing until she found the misalignment. The circulation pipes didn't connect—one wrong activation at high speeds and the entire system could have backfired.

'Amateurs.'

She made precise adjustments to secure the pipes, ensuring smooth nitrous flow for the second shift. Then, she slid back out from under the car, wiped her hands on her jeans, and stood. "Done."

Master Raven placed her hands on the leather steering wheel, tapping the left-shifting switch. The engine hummed and roared.

"Whooooooo!" Cargo yelled from the car's backside before getting out. "Ha ha! We're back in business, baby! Huh. Either you're outstanding, or we're horrible."

"You're terrible," Master Raven deadpanned.

There was silence—then Travi laughed, slapping Cargo's shoulder. "She's got you there, mate." He faced Master Raven. "You've got our attention. Think that skill can carry you through an entire race?"

Master Raven crossed her arms. "When?"

"Midnight. Hope you got a ride that can keep up."

She glanced at her motorcycle, the corner of her lips twitching under her mask. "I'll manage."

Luna, still unconvinced, scoffed again. "We'll see about that."

Master Raven rolled her neck and flexed her fingers. 'One step closer to Toby.'

Cargo chuckled, straddling his motorcycle as he smacked the side of Master Raven's ride with a firm thud. "Alright, I'll take care of your bike while you try not to bang up this one, yeah?"

She gave a curt nod, fingers flexing over the steering wheel. "Got it."

Across the lot, Luna and a third guy—built like a linebacker with a shaved head and a sleeveless hoodie—strolled toward a heavily modified 1970 Chrysler Imperial. Its matte-black body gleamed under the flickering streetlights, and aggressive neon-green skull decals stretched across the hood. The girl clinging to the guy's arm wore a cropped leather jacket, popping gum with a smirk as she eyed the competition.

The low, guttural growl of the engines hummed through the air as the racers climbed into their cars. Cargo revved his bike, letting out a sharp horn blare before peeling out of the gas station. Master Raven pressed down on the gas, following his lead onto the open road.

Bzzt.

Her vision twitched—her fingers gripping the wheel tighter as the unwelcome sensation crawled up her skull. Would it be so bad to floor it? The thought was tempting. The car purred like a caged beast beneath her hands, ready to be unleashed. But she shook it off, focusing on the road ahead. The night air was still, save for the distant hum of the city beyond. It would've been almost peaceful without Travi's grating voice breaking the silence.

"So, how long have you been in Sydney? It doesn't sound like you're from around here."

Master Raven's gaze remained locked on the road. "Not long. Just visiting a friend."

Travi let out a skeptical hum. "Right. Must be some friend if you're willing to street race."

"You could say that."

"You even know how to street race? People 'round here like to—"

Bzzt.

She winced, the sting flaring again. Her patience snapped. "Shut up, would you?"

A beat of silence.

"Alright, jeez." Travi raised his hands in mock surrender. "No need to be rude."

She ignored him, keeping her eyes on the road as they pulled up to the pier, a stretch of open pavement leading to the industrial district's outskirts, where five other racers awaited. Their cars varied from battered but powerful street beasts to sleek, polished machines that looked custom-built for chaos. Spray-painted designs stood out under the glow of neon undercarriages—flames, jagged stripes, even a few with numbered decals from previous wins.

Travi gestured toward the lineup. "This is where I leave you. Standard rules—whoever crosses the finish line first wins. But more importantly," he smirked, "you'll get to talk to the best cruiser the east side of the globe offers."

Master Raven barely glanced at him, instead scanning the competition.

Travi followed her gaze, nodding toward a specific car at the end of the line. "Watch out for him."

A 2025 Ford Mustang GTD sat at the ready, its polished black paint glistening like obsidian under the streetlights. White neon lines traced its razor-sharp contours, emphasizing its aggressive stance. The driver leaned against it with an air of nonchalance. Still, the way his fingers tapped against the hood suggested he was already envisioning his victory lap.

"That's Xeon," Travi added. "Bit of a show-off, but get in his way? He'll make you regret it."

Master Raven rolled her eyes, unimpressed, though her pulse thrummed with anticipation.

"Be sure to check your GPS," Travi reminded, stepping out of the car. "And use the nitrous wisely. I'll be rooting for you, rookie." He shot her a thumbs-up before backing away.

Ahead, Luna stood front and center between the two rows of vehicles, her grin wide and electric. The bandana in her hand fluttered as she held it high above her head. Engines revved. Adrenaline surged. Master Raven rolled her shoulders, her grip tightening around the wheel. The scent of gasoline filled her nostrils, shaking away any remnants of boredom.

Luna's voice rang out, cutting through the thick night air. "Ready?"

Master Raven exhaled slowly.

"Go!"

Luna's arm slashed downward, and the race erupted into chaos.

Tires screeched. Smoke billowed as the cars tore forward, the roar of engines shattering the quiet of the pier.

Master Raven's knuckles whitened against the wheel. She glanced at the GPS and the other racers, who were already jostling for dominance.

Upcoming turn in 5 yards

It was time to show them what actual speed looked like.

"Alright, newbies. Don't die, and remember, there are no—"

Click.

Master Raven silenced the radio with a flick of her fingers, her voice as sharp as a dagger. "If I wanted to hear idiots talk, I'd watch you all fail to fix a car."

Her gloved hand drummed against the steering wheel.

One

Two

Three

The neon-lit city blurred as the racers surged forward, engines growling like hungry beasts. The first turn loomed—an unforgiving left that would separate the weak from the worthy. Without hesitation, Master Raven shifted gears and ignited the nitrous.

PSSSH!

Her grip on the wheel tightened as she yanked it left, the rear tires shrieking in protest.

SCREEEEEE!

The car swung around the bend in a flawless arc, kicking up sparks as the metal kissed the curb. The other racers struggled to keep up, their headlights fading in her rearview mirror.

Her eyes narrowed. 'Where's—'

Honk. Honk.

A pair of eerie, glowing neon lights blinked ahead.

Xeon.

The street king of Sydney nodded from behind the visor of his sleek, black helmet. His Ford Mustang GTD, all obsidian with razor-sharp neon lines, slithered ahead like a predator at play—a bass-heavy beat thumped from his speakers, syncing with the pulsing glow of his helmet. Master Raven pressed down on the gas, shifting gears with precision. She flicked the wheel, the Equus Bass 770 spinning in a tight circle before snapping back into position beside Xeon. Their cars tore through the highway, shadows stretching long beneath the glow of streetlights.

Then, a tunnel swallowed them.

Thud.

She rolled her shoulders, switching off her headlights. Darkness embraced the road, only the dim glow of passing exit signs offering visibility. Xeon slammed his foot on the brakes. Master Raven barely had time to process before the headlights behind her expanded—white, blinding.

A train.

She shifted gears again, adrenaline pounding in her veins.

91 MPH

101 MPH

The roaring mass of steel behind her gained ground. She had seconds, seconds, to react. She hit the nitrous.

VrrrrrRRR!

The Equus surged forward, hugging the tunnel wall as if it were an extension of herself. Sparks erupted as the car scraped the concrete, but Master Raven held steady, launching over two other racers before landing with a brutal thud next to a neon-pink sports car. The driver, a guy with bleached hair and a cigarette dangling from his lips, turned just in time to mouth, "What the fu—"

CRASH!

There was a sickening crunch of metal and glass as another racer slammed hood-first into a parked semi. The impact sent shrapnel flying, the explosion illuminating the tunnel in a violent burst of orange and yellow. Master Raven barely blinked, eyes locking onto Xeon as he veered left.

A blinker?

Her mind whirred, processing every possible outcome. Left: A long drift back into the main city streets. Right: A downward spiral drift leading into a near-suicidal jump over the harbor's chasm.

She yanked the wheel toward a hidden break in the bridge's guardrail.

THUD!

The Equus bounced onto a metal scaffolding structure, its suspension groaning under the sudden impact. Lights streaked through the gaps in the rusted panels, revealing a labyrinth of interwoven steel beams and forgotten construction platforms. Above her, Xeon's Mustang screamed along a higher level.

She smirked. 'Perfect.'

SCREEEEE!

The metallic shriek of her tires echoed through the skeleton of the unfinished bridge.

SCREE!

Xeon reacted too late. He slammed his foot on the brakes, but—

THUMP!

The Equus landed before him, cutting him off in one smooth motion. His grip tightened on the wheel, knuckles whitening beneath his racing gloves. Then—

BOOM!

A former competitor, now a flaming wreck, rolled past them, careening into an oncoming semi. The explosion sent a shockwave of heat through the underpass. Xeon swerved, slowing down along with the three remaining racers. Master Raven didn't. She jerked the gearshift back into neutral, loosening her grip before slamming the nitrous switch.

PSSSHH!

The Equus dipped, gliding under the airborne truck as if she'd rehearsed it a thousand times. The second her tires kissed pavement again, she shifted gears, hit the brakes, and drifted—a perfect, hairline right turn. The checkered flag flapped wildly in the distance. Xeon was closing in—too fast.

Bzzt.

Her lips curled. "Wrong move."

With a calculated bump to his front wheels, she sent his Mustang into a chaotic spiral. His tires caught the pavement at the wrong angle—

FLIP. FLIP. FLIP.

The black-and-neon beast tumbled into the distance, slamming hood-first onto the asphalt before rolling violently. She crossed the finish line.

Rev. Rev.

Master Raven let the engine purr as she surveyed the wreckage in her rearview. A swarm of Toby's mechanics rushed toward Xeon's overturned Mustang. For a brief moment, she almost felt bad for him.

'Almost.'

"Shit." She sighed, rolling her neck. "Focus, damnit."

Exiting the Equus, Master Raven took in her surroundings, the afterparty of victory.

The car wash loomed like a forgotten relic, its rusting metal framework barely holding together beneath layers of vibrant graffiti. Neon paint swirled in chaotic splashes, the remnants of past street crews marking their dominance. Flickering overhead lamps bathed the scene in a sickly yellow glow, casting jagged shadows against the cracked concrete.

Beyond the walls, the after-race energy simmered. Engines idled, their low rumbles blending with the rhythmic hissing of compressed air guns. Hooded mechanics crouched around hyper-tuned machines, their hands stained with oil and grime as they tightened bolts and swapped out scorched brake pads. The air reeked of gasoline, burnt rubber, and the greasy aroma of cheap street food sizzling on a makeshift grill. Spectators lined the edges, their phones raised, capturing the victor's return. Some whispered in awe, others in disbelief—a rookie had done the impossible.

And Xeon was pissed.

Two men hoisted the fallen racer from his overturned Mustang, but he shoved them off when he found his footing. His body language screamed barely restrained fury, yet as he approached Master Raven, his movements were smooth and controlled.

She gave him a quick once-over, unimpressed.

Black boots with glowing white soles, joggers slashed with neon streaks that morphed from spikes to red, turquoise, purple, and green cracks. Magenta straps lined his sides, cinched together with a stark white belt. His hoodie zipped tight and pulsed with white glowing veins running down the sleeves. The full cyberpunk mask that concealed his head hummed with static energy, obscuring even the faintest glimpse of his face. Even his hands hid beneath armored tactical gloves.

Master Raven didn't like that. She excelled at reading people—the flicker of an eye, the twitch of a jaw, the hesitation before a lie. She had nothing to work with with this guy—just a faceless enigma wrapped in synthetic shadows, similar to herself and Raven.

His mask emitted a low, digitized chuckle, distorted yet unmistakably cold. "We'll talk after you speak with Cargo."

Bzzt.

She crossed her arms, stance solid. "What makes you think I'd want to talk to you?" 'Or that I don't just snap your damn neck instead...'

Xeon leaned in slightly, the faint glow of his mask reflecting in her sharp brown eyes. His voice, still processed through whatever tech coated his helmet, was a soft menace.

"You can't fool me, Master Raven. Unless you want Cargo to know about you, I suggest you take heed."

A chill scraped its way up her spine as Master Raven didn't expect Xeon to know who she exactly was, but she didn't let it show. Instead, she exhaled slowly through her nose, eyes narrowing. Before she could speak, Xeon slipped into the passenger seat of the Equus like he belonged there. Silent; waiting.

She clenched her jaw but let it slide—for now.

The rumble of another engine filled the lot. Cargo pulled up confidently, parking his bike and swinging off with a grin. He jogged over, his energy infectious despite the undercurrent of tension.

"You have something special, mate! Nice going out there! I mean, really! I've never seen anyone take down X like that!"

Master Raven barely acknowledged the compliment. "It wasn't that hard."

Cargo laughed, clapping her on the back. "Not one for small talk, eh? Fair enough. Let's get you sorted."

Behind them, Travi was busy flipping through a fat stack of cash, a satisfied smirk curling his lips. "Always bet on the rookie. Nice pick, Cargo."

The bald man chuckled. "Just my usual charm seeing me through. This here's your lucky winner." He turned to her, expectant. "What's your street name, kid?"

"Haze."

Travi tilted his head, the name rolling off his tongue as he studied her closer. His expression flickered—half recognition, half curiosity. "Well, welcome to the band of merry men. Since it's your first race, I'll let you keep the Equus for a few days. See you around?"

"Yeah," Haze answered, tone neutral.

"Good." Travi stuffed the last of his winnings into his jacket before nodding toward Cargo. "He'll give you the details."

Without another word, he disappeared behind a locked green door. Haze's gaze lingered on that door.

Beep.

Cli-Clunk.

A heavy automatic lock sealed it from the inside; you could not enter unless someone wanted you to.

'Duly noted,' Haze thought.

Cargo rocked on his heels. "The real work doesn't start until day three, but it's worth the wait. Head to Arlo's Keg Pin off Denton Highway later tonight, around six. From there, you'll run supplies to an outpost in the wilds. Got it?"

"Of course." A smirk tugged at Haze's lips as she subtly dropped a tracking dot onto the pavement.

Cargo grinned. "Oh, and keep the bike. It's probably better used here instead. See you around, Haze."

Rolling her eyes, she walked toward the Equus, slipping into the driver's seat.

Xeon spoke before she could. "Not here. Just drive, Haze."

Bzzt.

Master Raven's fingers flexed on the wheel at how he casually spoke her fake name, the urge to slam his masked head into the dashboard nearly overwhelming. Yet she couldn't risk exposing her identity to the crew when Toby was within her grasp. Instead, she exhaled, eased into gear, and pulled the car out of the lot.

The night was far from over and only just beginning.

5:13 A.M.:

The underground watch room was eerily silent, its dim overhead lights casting long, stretching shadows down the metallic hallways. The faint hum of unseen machinery pulsed like a heartbeat beneath Raven's bare feet as he walked, a towel draped over his shoulders. The air still carried the lingering coolness of his post-workout shower, water droplets trailing down his chiseled arms before soaking into the waistband of his black sweatpants. He had exhausted himself with handstand pushups, trying to bury his thoughts beneath muscle strain and rhythmic breaths. But the memories had clawed their way back—his training with Tatyana before the chaos began before everything unraveled.

Now, uncertainty gnawed at him like an invisible assailant.

Through the corridor's reinforced glass windows, Raven spotted them—Tatyana's parents. They stood on the narrow balcony, both still clad in their mission suits, their figures bathed in the faint glow of the cityscape beyond. Their hands rested on the guardrail, postures rigid yet weary, the weight of unspoken grief pressing into their shoulders.

Raven hesitated, feeling underdressed and vulnerable, even in sweatpants and a towel. But something about how they stood there—silent, lost in thought—pulled him in. Taking a slow breath, he slid the door open. The cool night air greeted him, carrying the faint scent of metal, rain, and the distant hum of civilization.

"Couldn't sleep either?"

Emani turned her head just slightly, her profile cast in pale moonlight. "Unfortunately..."

Raven exhaled, resting his hands against the glass railing. His fingers tapped absently against the smooth surface, an unconscious attempt to fill the silence. "I can't even imagine how you two are taking this..."

Silence settled over them again, stretching for long moments before Kevon finally spoke. His voice was low, weighted with reflection. "Sometimes, I can't help but think back to before."

An arched brow signaled Raven's quiet patience.

Kevon's eyes darkened with the weight of memory. "I trained Tatyana earlier than usual, knowing our baby was stubbornly strong. Yet the first sign of trouble was my fault..."

"I'm done!"

The shout rang through the quiet clearing, sharp and trembling with frustration.

Kevon barely shifted as his daughter shoved against his chest, her hands pressing against his solid frame with all the force her thirteen-year-old body could muster. The impact barely moved him, but its intent sent a ripple of unease through his gut. Tatyana yanked the hood of her gray jacket over her neatly braided hair and turned away. Her sneakers crunched over dirt and fallen leaves as she stormed toward the car.

"Tatyana!"

She ignored him, her pace quickening.

Kevon inhaled sharply, forcing patience into his voice as he caught up to her. "We're not done for the day. We just started Ki channeling. Come on, you—"

"No!"

She spun around so suddenly that Kevon nearly stepped back. Her dark eyes blazed with frustration, her fists clenched at her sides. "I don't want to do this anymore! I hate it!"

His gaze sharpened, a stern crease forming between his brows. "Are you quitting just because you think you can't do this? Ty, you wanted to be a ninja, and now—"

"I HATE IT!"

Her voice cracked, laced with something more profound—exhaustion, maybe even fear. For the first time, Kevon looked at her. Beneath the defiance, her face was taut with frustration, her lips quivering as unshed tears gathered in her eyes.

He had pushed her. Too hard.

"I used to look forward to training," she whispered, voice breaking. "But now I go home sore or with a headache. I hate it! I don't wanna be a stupid ninja anymore!"

Kevon's throat tightened. "Ty, I—"

"I wanna go home."

The finality in her voice struck Kevon harder than any blow ever could. He stood frozen, warring with himself for a moment until he finally let out a long, measured sigh.

Slowly, Kevon pulled his keys from his pocket. "Okay..."

On the balcony, Kevon shook his head, his fingers gripping the railing as if grounding himself against the memory. His chest rose and fell with a slow, heavy breath, and his eyes momentarily glistened.

"I regrettably learned that day."

Emani's voice was soft but firm as she added, "Usually, a few hours of silence is all that's needed. When that happened, I knew something had to change. Of course, the conversation afterward wasn't easy."

Kevon paced their bedroom, his fingers threading through his short, pale afro. "I mean, she was bold for yelling at me," he muttered, half-chuckling.

Emani, sitting on the edge of their bed, didn't smile. Her gaze remained hard, steady. "Eli..." He stopped. "Do you hear yourself right now?"

His fingers fell from his hair, his expression sobering. "She was bold, yeah. But there might be something there. I gotta help her tap into—"

"Listen to me."

Emani stood, closing the distance between them. Her voice was unwavering, her presence demanding his full attention. "She's your daughter, not a subordinate in the Unit. You need to ease up."

Kevon opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off. "Ty's just a kid at thirteen, Kevon. Not a twenty-year-old soldier with years of training."

The weight of her words pressed into him, seeping into his bones. His shoulders, once tense with unspoken frustration, finally eased.

Emani's gaze softened as she glanced toward the hall, where Tatyana's bedroom door remained firmly shut. "Give her a few days to mull it over. For now, let her rest."

Kevon let out a small, exhausted chuckle, shaking his head. "Hell, I was almost worried she'd quit for good. Ty didn't speak about training for an entire week. And then, I realized something I didn't think I needed to learn. Everyone needs a push here and there, but it's one thing to know when to do so. I think back to that day once in a while—especially now, more than ever."

"Tatyana got her strength from both of you," Raven murmured.

Emani's lips curved into something like a smile, but worry shadowed it. "There's only so much it can do at this time." Her warm brown eyes then settled on him. "How are you holding up, dear? I know this hasn't been easy for you either."

Raven hesitated, not expecting the question. "It's... been difficult," he admitted, voice quieter. "I wasn't there when Tatyana needed me most."

Kevon sighed, his hands tightening on the railing. "Victor told us what happened when that Devil attacked. There was nothing you could have done to prevent something so unpredictable. Blaming yourself won't change our predicament."

"I know..." Raven exhaled. "But I still feel responsible."

Emani placed a gentle, comforting hand on his arm. "Our child is strong, Raven. We'll find a way to help her once we get close enough. And I hope what I have planned will reduce the harm that device is inflicting in her head."

Kevon straightened, his focus sharpening. "What would that be, Jada?"

Raven was equally curious.

A knowing glint flickered in Emani's eyes. "I'm sure you boys have heard of Dojutsu—the Ninja Eye. I prayed all these years that I wouldn't have to use it. But I'll be damned if I lose my child."

The night stretched endlessly over the open highway, the black asphalt glistening beneath the neon glow of streetlights. Master Raven gripped the wheel with an ease that belied her sharp focus, her gloved fingers tapping rhythmically against the leather. The muscle car's engine thrummed like a restless beast, its deep purr blending into the silence that settled between her and the masked stranger beside her—only the occasional flicker of headlights from passing vehicles cut through the tension.

She side-eyed her passenger, Xeon, who sat slouched in his seat, arms crossed over his broad chest. Though that sleek, reinforced mask concealed his face, she could tell he watched her just as intently—a measured assessment.

Master Raven silently exhaled through her nose and flexed her fingers on the wheel, weaving effortlessly through a cluster of slower-moving cars. "So, what do you want?"

Xeon let out a low, mechanical chuckle, distorted through his mask's vocal modulator. It was eerie and unnatural, like a machine mocking human amusement. "Simple. I want Toby and his goons wiped out. They don't keep up with the news, so they haven't seen those wanted posters of you yet. Imbeciles."

The word nearly made Master Raven laugh since she used it on occasion.

"If you decide to cooperate, I'll disclose any extra intel you require about your targets."

Master Raven nodded once, her expression unreadable beneath her mask. "Most people try to force a partnership first. You seem to know better."

Xeon shifted, his posture relaxed, but his tone betrayed keen observation. "I know enough." There was a pause before he tilted his head slightly. "Do we have a deal?"

She didn't answer immediately and instead pulled the car over, easing onto the gravel shoulder with practiced precision. The engine idled in a steady, muted growl as Master Raven leaned back in her seat. Just ahead, the road curved sharply into the darkness, disappearing into the dense skyline of abandoned industrial buildings. A lone motorcyclist roared past, the red taillight shrinking into the night. Her dark eyes followed the vehicle until it vanished beyond the bend.

Then, Master Raven turned back to him. "Deal."

Xeon's mask tilted as if he hadn't expected her to agree promptly.

Master Raven drummed her fingers against the steering wheel once more. "Since you seem to know so much... How does Toby move?"

Xeon's laughter came again, low and cynical, the sound that would make most people's skin crawl. There was something unnatural about it, ghostly almost. Yet Master Raven didn't mind, if not liked its sound.

"Like a motorcade. Armored trucks, guys with automatic weapons and blades—just in case some lunatic tries to take Toby out while he's on the move. Even the cops won't touch them," Xeon mused, his voice lowering conspiratorially.

A slow smirk curled beneath her mask, the crimson line running across it pulsing like a heartbeat. Her excitement bubbled beneath the surface, an intoxicating mix of adrenaline and anticipation.

From the backseat, Anger—her ever-present, quiet madness—sighed dramatically. "Finally! A plan I like!"

Master Raven let out a short, low laugh that carried a distinct edge of insanity. It wasn't the wild, unhinged kind but rather the knowing, dangerous amusement of a woman who had seen too much and lived too long in the shadows. She reached up and removed her mask. Her eyes flared to life, illuminating the dim car interior with a brilliant, unnatural crimson glow.

Xeon stiffened, his breath catching as the eerie glow reflected in his visor. "Holy..."

Master Raven turned to face him fully now, her lips curving into a slow, razor-sharp grin. "Do you know where I could get supplies to make a weapon?"

Xeon remained frozen for another beat, his masked gaze locked onto hers. Then, slowly, his head inclined, the glow from his mask catching the edges of her face. "I do..."

His head tilted slightly, and for a moment, his posture shifted to something looser and more casual—but there was an edge, a weight behind his following words.

"I've heard much about you but never expected to see that up close."

Master Raven's glowing eyes remained locked on him, her expression unreadable.

"Though I wonder... would he approve of what you're becoming?"

Master Raven's smirk twitched. "He?"

"Don't be coy." Xeon turned his head slightly as if examining her from a different angle, his tone lower and more deliberate. "Your shadow, the one you think about when no one's watching."

For the first time, the air inside the car turned still. The thrill, ease, and amusement—all coiled into a taut wire, waiting for the tension to snap. Master Raven's fingers twitched against the steering wheel, but she said nothing.

'Raven... why did he never mention this guy?'

"Can't say I expected subordinate and superior relations." Xeon chuckled, tapping a finger against his temple. "But hey, what do I know? Your suitor should tell you more about our past exploits if you're not too far gone."

"Tread carefully with your next words."

"We both want the same thing, so ditch the empty threats. They don't suit a woman like yourself anyway."

5:38 A.M.:

Master Raven strode into the underground den, her sharp gaze flickering over the scene before her. The club pulsed with an ominous crimson glow, the deep red lighting casting wicked shadows along the walls and floor. The air was thick with sweat, alcohol, and gunpowder.

Lasers sliced through the smog, illuminating the dance floor where bodies moved in perfect sync with the deep, pulsating bass of the music. The beat was dark and intoxicating, a rhythmic call for those who thrived in the underworld's embrace.

Scantily clad dancers twisted and swayed, their bodies glistening under the neon lights, while groups of suited men and mercenaries handled deadlier business off to the sides. Guns were loaded, knives twirled between fingers, and grenades casually rolled across tables like poker chips. The club was more than just a haven for pleasure—it was a war room wrapped in temptation.

From above, a shadow loomed.

Perched above the DJ booth, a man draped in segmented metal armor and a dark red hood sat motionless. His face remained entirely hidden beneath the heavy fabric, but Master Raven could feel his gaze boring into her - watching and studying.

She smirked under her mask. 'He'd have to pay for a front-row seat for a show.'

Xeon sifted through the crowd, barely acknowledged by the chaotic energy around them. Master Raven followed, stepping lightly through the bodies until they descended a set of grated stairs leading into a dimly lit chamber below.

A man stood waiting.

Dressed in armored white pants and silver boots, the man exuded the nonchalant confidence of a seasoned weaponsmith. Blades and firearms adorned the walls like trophies, each customized and deadly. Open ammunition cases were scattered across the floor, metal glinting under the dull overhead light.

A slow, irritated groan cut through the tension. "Don't tell me you need another lucky favor, X..."

The man pulled a blade from a steaming vat of oil, the alloy glistening as he laid it on a nearby table. His voice carried the weariness of someone who had spent far too many nights entertaining rogues and killers.

Xeon leaned casually against the wall. "I don't. My friend here needs weapon supplies."

For the first time, the weaponsmith—Hilt—turned his attention toward her.

Master Raven also examined him. He was slightly shorter than expected, and his frame was lean but fit. His skin was tanned, contrasting with the stark white hair and short beard that framed his face. Over his eyes, mirrored pink-lensed goggles reflected the dim light, giving him a strange, almost surreal look.

"Your friend..."

His voice shifted, dipping into something unmistakably suggestive. Hilt slowly and deliberately raked his gaze over Master Raven, drinking in her presence with thinly veiled desire. She resisted the immediate, overpowering urge to carve out his eyes.

Bzzt.

The faint vibration of an electronic device in the background broke the moment.

"I need enough chromium to forge an Ōdachi," she stated, her voice even.

Hilt whistled lowly, his amusement lingering as he rummaged through an armored case. "That's a request I don't get every day." After a brief search, he pulled out a moderately sized black box and slid it onto the table. "This should be enough for the blade and an extra katana if you wanna go full metal. Consider this on the house."

Master Raven exhaled sharply, rolling her eyes as she took the box. She didn't dignify his sleazy attempt at charm with a response.

Xeon nodded. "Thanks, Hilt."

The weaponsmith grinned, a cocky smirk stretching across his face. "Don't come back without her next time."

Master Raven didn't flinch, already heading toward the stairs. Xeon followed close behind as they emerged back into the neon-lit chaos above. The music hit them like a wave, heavy and intoxicating, vibrating through the floor beneath their feet.

"Sorry about that," Xeon said, adjusting his gloves. "Hilt can be... blunt."

Master Raven rolled her shoulders, her annoyance still simmering. "If by blunt, you mean lecherous, then yes. He's—"

Before she could finish, a broad shoulder slammed into hers. Her head snapped to the side, eyes locking onto the stranger who dared to cut her off. He was slightly taller than her, clad in a worn leather vest with a smug expression to match.

"Mind watching where you're goin'?"

His words barely left his mouth before she moved. A flick of her wrist produced a blur of silver within a single blink. The man hit the floor with a dull thud, a small, wet gash carved into his neck. Tiny blood droplets spilled onto the polished surface, reflecting the neon lights above in a grotesque shimmer.

Xeon inhaled sharply. "Did you just—"

"Walk," Master Raven ordered coldly, biting back the smirk threatening to creep onto her lips. The rush of her action was sharp, electric, and intoxicating.

Xeon obeyed, though his head turned slightly, his mask hiding whatever expression he wore.

Above them, on a concrete balcony, a pair of sharp, amused purple eyes observed the entire exchange from behind a pillar. A glass of water sat in hand, a single ice cube swirling lazily in its depths. A chuckle sounded.

"Oh, what fun you'll be to toy with," he mused, the corners of his mouth twitching into the ghost of a smirk.

His fingers curled around the glass. "Once the measly Mechanic is out of the way."

The muscle car roared as it sped down the empty highway, slicing through the cool night air. City lights shimmered in the rearview mirror, growing distant as the underground club became nothing more than a glowing speck on the horizon.

Inside, Master Raven leaned back in the driver's seat, her fingers gripping the wheel as a sharp laugh escaped her lips. The rush, the intoxicating pulse of chaos, fueled her, sending an eerie thrill through her veins.

Beside her, Xeon sat still, his metallic frame unreadable. But after a few minutes of tense silence, he finally spoke.

"Did you just—"

Master Raven cut him off with another laugh, shaking her head.

"Don't know why you're so shocked. You know who I am. You know what I'm capable of. The real fun doesn't start until Toby begins to run."

Xeon exhaled slowly, his robotic voice laced with an uncertainty he rarely showed. "Right... I'll meet you outside of Arlo's."

Without another word, he stepped out, slipping into his Equus Bass 700. The sleek, obsidian-black vehicle growled to life before vanishing down the road. Master Raven lingered momentarily, watching until the taillights disappeared into the night.

Then, she moved.

Her boots hit the pavement silently as she slipped into the darkness of an unfinished tunnel beneath a construction site. The stale scent of concrete dust filled the air, mingling with the distant echoes of dripping water. The subway station ahead was dim and abandoned—save for the ominous glow of her mask, the only light in the suffocating black.

Bzzt.

"Finally! Back here so we can get something done!"

A surge of irritation coursed through Master Raven as she snarled, her right eye pulsing with an unnatural crimson glow. "Shut up! What you pulled back there was unnecessary!

Her voice carried through the tunnels, bouncing back at her like a twisted mockery.

Anger—her—cackled, the sound reverberating inside her skull. "Good. Now, instead of resisting me—"

Bzzt.

She staggered. Her grip on the black box tightened as her free hand clutched her head.

"No..."

Pain lanced through her skull, sharp and searing. Her vision blurred at the edges, bleeding red as if the world drowned in crimson ink.

Bzzt.

"We're sooo close."

Her breath hitched. "Control yourself..."

Bzzt.

The laughter intensified, echoing within her mind like a twisted chorus of insanity. It filled every corner of her consciousness, blotting out all other sounds. It clawed at her, sinking its talons into her thoughts until—

"SHUT UP!"

Bz—

A sudden, deafening ringing erupted in her ears, drowning everything else in a high-pitched whine. Her head pulsed, her entire body vibrating with the aftershocks of the episode.

Then, silence.

When her vision returned, Master Raven wasn't in the tunnel anymore but on the floor.

Master Raven's hands pressed into the smooth surface beneath her—a wooden tatami mat, cool against her fevered skin. Her breathing was uneven, and her body was stiff and exhausted. She clenched her jaw, the metallic tang of blood in her mouth registering for the first time.

Slowly, painfully, she lifted herself onto her elbows. Her shoulders ached, a fresh soreness digging into her muscles as she moved. A groan escaped her lips.

"Hah... what—"

Everything was red. Not just her vision—the room itself.

A jagged crater yawned from the far corner of the wall, a massive chunk of concrete missing as if something crammed clean. Blood splattered the cracks, smeared in violent streaks across the fractured stone.

Her stomach twisted. Her hands, each knuckle raw with the skin split open, fresh blood still oozing. The distant memory of impact—bone meeting stone, flesh splitting on impact—replayed in the back of her mind.

'I did this.'

Again, mocking laughter slithered through the silence.

Bzzt.

Master Raven snapped her gaze to the side, her teeth grinding.

Anger—her—sauntered across the room, her form flickering in and out of focus like a distorted mirage. She was her. And yet, she wasn't. She wore her face, but her grin was wider, her stance looser—almost lazy, as if she had all the time in the world.

"What did you do?" Master Raven demanded, her voice dangerously low.

Anger spread his arms in a phony display of innocence. "I didn't kill anyone... yet. All you need to do is sharpen the blade and combine the hilt. You should probably cover your hands. I needed to let off some extra tension."

"Of course you did," she scoffed.

Her body buzzed with adrenaline, and her skin hummed with unspent energy. She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to steady her breathing, and then glanced at the watch strapped to her wrist: 7:41 A.M.

"Great..."

Her gaze flickered downward, catching sight of something at her feet. The unfinished blade of the Ōdachi glinted in the pale light. Its sleek form was still unsharpened, its wooden hilt adorned with red sageo string, fastening bolts, a habaki, and a simple round tsuba.

It was almost complete.

Master Raven exhaled, rubbing her temple. Only days ago, she had been fighting against her rage. Now, she was becoming it. Years of discipline, control, and rigorous training—undone. A deranged doctor had reached inside and pulled her apart piece by piece until she was barely hanging onto the fragments of who she once was.

Anger's laughter came again, curling like smoke around her senses. "Quite the punchline, literally. Now you know how it feels to be controlled, locked away..."

Master Raven's lips parted slightly, but she hesitated. "I don't... do that—"

"Save it! We have work to do!"

Master Raven's jaw tightened, knowing this battle was far from over.

With a grunt, she pushed herself to her feet and shambled toward the bathroom. She tore through the cabinets for a medkit but found none and settled for adhesive bandages. Wrapping her bruised hands with practiced precision, she flexed her fingers to test the tightness before returning to the main room.

The unfinished Ōdachi waited.

Master Raven moved toward the belt sander in the corner. Its placement beside her father's old armor was an unspoken reminder of her roots. Her fingers curled around the blade, feeling its weight—her weight. With a flick of the switch, the sander roared to life. Sparks danced airward as the steel kissed the grinding belt, the sound of metal honed, slicing through the stillness. Her focus was undeterred. The rhythmic scrape of the blade against the sander was soothing, drowning out the echoes of laughter, the whispering temptations. Slowly, steadily, the red in her eye faded to brown.

Deep within the jagged recesses of her mind, an old memory stirred—one buried beneath years of discipline, training, and pain.

The metallic rasp of grinding steel faded into the distant murmur of falling rain. A drizzle swept across the Parisian skyline, veiling the city in a muted navy hue as the last slivers of sunlight dipped beneath the horizon. The glow of streetlights flickered below, their reflections shimmering in the slick pavement like scattered fireflies.

Tatyana sat in the doorway of the main sparring room's balcony, her bandaged arm resting against her knee. She clenched a shaky fist; the gauze darkened slightly from the tension straining her muscles. Frustration curled in her chest, tightening with each uneven breath. Four fresh cuts marked her failures in today's training—reminders of what she couldn't overcome.

A deep sigh escaped her lips, vanishing into the damp evening air. She hated losing and feeling weak.

"Tatyana..."

A familiar voice broke through the quiet. Tatyana didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"Hey, you okay?"

She exhaled through her nose, her shoulders growing heavier - another reminder and another person to witness her failures.

"I guess…" she muttered, not bothering to look his way.

Rashad stepped closer, his footsteps silent against the wooden floor, before he sat down beside her. His warmth contrasted with the cool night air, but she refused to acknowledge it.

"Still thinking about today's training?" he asked, voice even.

She rested her chin on her palm, elbow propped on her bent knee. "I prefer to be alone when I want to think."

Rashad hummed, watching her from the corner of his eye. The faint city glow illuminated her features, casting soft highlights against her dark skin. Even in the dim light, he could see the tension in her jaw, the way her brown eyes darkened when she was upset.

"You could try asking yourself what stopped you," he suggested.

Tatyana scoffed, shaking her head.

"Do you hear how crazy you sound right now?" she muttered.

Rashad chuckled. "Maybe you have to be crazy to join a unit of ninjas." He leaned back slightly, stretching out his legs. "You're good with a kunai, but I've noticed some… missteps when you use it."

She ran a hand over her face, but through the gaps in her fingers, he caught a glimpse of one eye peeking at him, sharp and irritated.

"Not helping."

Rashad shrugged, pushing himself to his feet. His gaze swept over the weapons rack on the wall before he reached for a wooden katana and a shorter chukutō.

"Ever thought about going with something shorter?" he asked, tossing the chukutō onto the floor before her.

Tatyana barely glanced at it.

"I don't know why you're bothering to try now," she muttered. "Or why you're not gloating about your win today."

A pause.

It lingered longer than usual.

She finally turned her head, eyebrows furrowing slightly. "Raven?"

Rashad exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Sure, it was a fair win… but it felt hollow." His gaze met hers, unwavering. "I could tell you were losing your motivation. I shouldn't have done that either."

"A win is a win."

He shook his head. "Not when your opponent wasn't at their best."

The rain outside grew heavier, pattering against the rooftop in a steady rhythm. Tatyana closed her eyes for a brief moment before exhaling, her fingers brushing the chukutō at her feet.

"Would you please let it go?"

"Ty—"

"Let me watch the rain in peace."

Another silence.

Then—

"Have it your way."

Tatyana barely had time to react before Rashad suddenly lifted her off the ground, slinging her effortlessly across his shoulders.

"Raven—"

He spun in place, nearly losing balance as she clung to him, a surprised yelp escaping her lips.

"I swear if you drop me—"

A reluctant smile tugged at her lips as he spun again, her laughter bubbling up despite herself.

"Raven—"

He smirked. "Happy now?"

She finally laughed, the sound light and unguarded. "Put me down, you idiot!"

"Not until you're happy."

"Okay! Okay! I'm happy!"

He grunted in satisfaction before shifting his grip and gently setting her down. Tatyana instinctively grabbed onto his shoulders for balance, steadying herself.

Then—

Tap.

Her hands lingered at his shoulders, and his did at her hips. The weight of their closeness suddenly settled between them, thick and unspoken. The space where their laughter once existed now brimmed with something heavier, something different.

Rashad blinked, clearing his throat. "Uh... feel better?"

A small smile remained on her lips. "I do, actually."

He nodded. "G-good."

Silence again.

But this was comfortable.

Clearing his throat, Rashad turned back to the weapon rack, grabbing the wooden katana before tossing the chukutō in her direction. Tatyana caught it without thinking, her fingers wrapping around the hilt.

"Come on," he said, adjusting his grip on his weapon. "Show me what you've got."

Tatyana studied the chukutō for a moment, rolling it in her palm. It was lighter than she expected and easier to maneuver. Her stance shifted naturally, and her muscles relaxed as she mirrored his posture.

Rashad smirked. "Looking better already, Ty."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Think so?"

"Yeah."

The rain drummed steadily outside, a rhythmic backdrop to the soft echoes of wood meeting wood. Shadows flickered against the walls as they moved, stepping and striking in a seamless rhythm. A few grunts filled the air, followed by the occasional laughter.

The weight of her earlier failures didn't feel so heavy afterward.

Master Raven shook her head, her lips twitching into a small, almost wistful smile. "That imbecile..."

Bzzt.

An indifferent scoff sliced through the air.

"Cut the crap," Anger sneered, rolling her crimson eyes. "That was then. This is now. Focus. We have more important things to worry about than him."

The warmth in Master Raven's expression was snuffed out instantly, her right eye darkening into a burning red. The dim room reflected off the freshly sharpened blade she lifted from the sanding belt, its silver body catching the light like a shard of liquid moonlight. The steel was flawless—untouched, untested.

She ran a fingertip along the edge, the metal whispering back in warning.

"Okay..."

Her fingers curled tighter around the ōdachi's hilt, the weight grounding her as she honed on an unseen enemy. Inhaling deeply, she shifted her stance—then swung.

The blade sang, carving through the air with a wraithlike hum. The strain of Master Raven's breath wove into the weapon's melody, a harmony of raw emotion and restrained destruction. Anger, frustration, and pain poured into every motion, the following slash more precise than the last.

Bzzt.

A flicker of crimson bled into her vision.

Spinning, Master Raven stepped into a downward arc, the swing's force threatening to rattle her bones. Adjusting her grip, she twisted into a double upward slash, the steel cutting an invisible path of vengeance.

Bzzt!

The world melted into a searing red void. A suffocating silence swallowed the room whole. The only sound left was the wailing ghost of her blade, cleaving through the stillness.

Bzzt.

The laughter returned - a sickening cackle echoing from nowhere and everywhere. Master Raven's teeth clenched as a jagged spike of pain buried itself in the base of her skull, twisting like a serrated dagger.

Bzzt.

The agony brought Master Raven to her knees. Her grip on the hilt tightened as if it were the only thing keeping her tethered to reality. But it wasn't enough.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Her scream tore through the air, raw and guttural, the sound of a warrior unraveling from the inside out.

A violent shiver crawled down her spine. Her knuckles were bone-white against the hilt as a finger reddened where it pressed into the steel. Her breaths came in ragged, uneven bursts, chest rising and falling in chaos.

Then—

A slow, curling smile. A cruel, twisted expression that didn't belong to her. Master Raven's skin burned hot; her pulse drummed in her ears. Yet the anger welcomed her with open arms. Warm. Familiar. Comforting. A low chuckle spilled from her lips, barely audible at first. Then it grew, twisting into something darker, manic—until her laughter thundered through the room, bouncing off the walls in eerie triumph.

Tap.

A soft patter hit and stained the ground - stray tears.

Bzzt.

Her fingers twitched. She wanted to rip her head off and claw her way out. She wished this had never happened.

But it was far too late for wishes now.

9:15 A.M.:

Master Raven groaned, eyes slowly fluttered open. The blur of her surroundings sharpened, but the reddened tint of her vision didn't shrink.

Bzzt.

She gripped the comforter, a deep growl escaping her in a new frustration.

That mocking laugh returned. "Seems you and I are becoming more alike every day. Fun. Now get up. We can't kill the bastard and his idiots on foot."

Once again, Master Raven pulled herself together and headed for the bathroom.

After taking a much-needed cold shower, Master Raven folded the collar of her dark red button-down shirt. Her eyebrow raised at seeing her phone's screen lighting up on the bed. Picking it up, she answered it without a second thought.

"It's Xeon. You have a ride, right?"

Master Raven's agitation spiked. "How the hell did you get this number!?"

"Don't worry about it. Do you have a ride or not? You can't do whatever you have planned without wheels."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm waiting nearby. I can give you a ride to the dealership."

"I'll be down in a few minutes..."

Beep.

Anger laughed, her voice laced with amusement. "He seems fun."

Without another word, Master Raven fastened the suit pants to her body with their belt and quickly hastened the holster for Bishop's pistol off the desk. She took a deep breath, picked up the dark gray trench coat, and stared at the soft, warm fabric in her hand.

Just like...

Raven tilted his head, looking at her with vivid confusion. "How did you and Ralin become friends anyway? I still don't understand how you and her could get along."

Master Raven laughed. "My Mom asked the same question but was more or less blunt. So—"

Master Raven pulled the trench coat over her shoulders, shaking off the lingering thoughts that threatened to consume her.

'Focus...'

The heavy fabric settled against her frame like armor, the worn leather a testament to battles fought in silence. With a swift motion, she slung the duffle bag over her shoulder, the weight grounding her in the moment: no hesitation or second-guessing.

Stepping into the elevator, the soft hum of machinery filled the confined space, but it did little to quiet the storm in her head. The descent felt longer than it should have—every passing second stretching into eternity.

The car door shut with a solid thunk as she slid into the passenger seat. The scent of leather, engine grease, and faint traces of gunpowder clung to the air. Xeon didn't look at her. He turned the wheel, pulling the Equus off the curb smoothly. His voice was calm, detached.

"I'll see you at Arlo's later today, but you better pick something fast. You don't have time to get it modded either."

Master Raven's gaze flickered toward him, the dim glow of the dashboard reflecting in her narrowed eyes. "I know what I'm doing."

Xeon exhaled through his nose, his grip tightening on the wheel. "At a time like this, hopefully you do."

The deep, controlled purr of the Equus' engine filled the void between them, steady and unwavering. Streetlights flickered past, their golden glow slicing through the lingering darkness of dawn. Master Raven leaned back into the seat, arms crossed, inhaling deeply through her nose. The familiar scent of rain on asphalt clung to the city, mixing with the distant hum of life waking up.

Bzzt.

A static hiss slithered into her mind, coiling around her thoughts like a serpent. "What's stopping you from killing Xeon right now? We. Don't. Need. Him."

Her eyelids lowered. The bridge of her nose twitched.

Bzzt.

"Shut up."

"Holding back won't help."

Her gaze drifted to the window, catching the distorted reflection of her face against the glass. Her right eye flickered, a dim crimson shade darkening at the edges like ink bleeding into water. Even in the soft glow of the rising sun, it almost looked black.

A grimace settled onto her face, its weight sinking deeper into her skin. "Great…"

Xeon's head tilted slightly, barely enough to catch her in his peripheral. His gaze dropped to the firearm strapped to her hip, barely concealed beneath her coat.

"Of course you have that," he muttered, his tone carrying the weight of irritation.

Master Raven rolled her shoulders, unbothered. "The place doesn't have metal detectors, right?"

Xeon scoffed. "Of course it does, but I'll make sure it doesn't see your weapon."

She smirked, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Good."

The Equus rolled to a stop at a red light, the faint ticking of the turn signal the only sound in the tense quiet. Raindrops tapped softly against the windshield, thin water streaks illuminated by neon reflections. Master Raven's fingers curled against her thigh, the whisper of metal brushing against leather.

Bzzt.

"Not much longer now..."

She exhaled sharply, forcing the static into the recesses of her mind.

Suzuki Motorcycle Dealership:

Master Raven tugged the cap lower over her brow, the brim casting a slight shadow over her sharp gaze. She felt oddly underdressed—no tactical gear, no reinforced uniform, just a simple trench coat and a sense of purpose. Yet, as she stepped through the metal detector, she nearly smirked when it remained silent.

It was reassuring to know Xeon was good on his word.

Her eyes swept across the dealership floor, analyzing every detail with a hunter's efficiency. Employees stood idly near a few vehicles, engaging in hushed conversations, while potential buyers admired the sleek motorcycles displayed under soft, artificial lighting.

None of these would do.

She kept moving, hands casually shoved into her coat pockets, until her eyes locked onto something at the back of the building. A trio of bikes stood on individual pedestals, their presence subtly separated from the rest - sleek, minimalist, and deadly in the right hands.

The deep black of its carbon fiber frame contrasted sharply against its crisp white upper half. It was eye-catching to the untrained eye, but she knew the truth—true power wasn't in aesthetics but in speed and precision.

A man in a sharp black suit and red dress shirt approached. His silver eyes glinted under the showroom lights, and the small Suzuki pin on his lapel marked his affiliation. Below it, his name tag read Geo.

"Ah," he greeted with a nod, his voice smooth and professional. "The Arc Vector Electric Motorcycle is a refined yet powerful ride built for true enthusiasts. It boasts—"

"A 16.8 kWh lithium-ion battery with a permanent rare Earth magnet AC motor and a carbon monocoque frame," Master Raven interrupted smoothly. "Top speed of 124 mph, zero to sixty in 3.1 seconds. A range of 271 miles. Carbon wheels, three standard rider modes, lean traction control, and conventional ABS."

Geo's eyebrows lifted in amusement before he chuckled. "Seems you know more than I expected. That makes my job easier."

She inclined her head toward the bike. "How much?"

Geo placed a hand on his chin, considering. "It's mostly a test model, but two others like it. Seven thousand, five hundred dollars."

"Done."

"Right. I'll grab the paperwork."

Bzzt.

Her eyes flickered toward the desk. Keys hung neatly on the wall—rowed in perfect order, each tag marking their corresponding rides. The Arc Vector's key sat among them, so close and available.

Bzzt!

A pulse of heat rushed through her skull. Her vision darkened at the edges, a crimson haze creeping in. The world slowed.

And then—

Master Raven moved. A blur of motion, a flash of her coat whipping past the desk. By the time Geo turned back, she was already straddling the Arc Vector, twisting the key in the ignition. The engine purred to life, whisper-quiet, nearly lost beneath the gasps of onlookers. Then she was gone. The dealership doors swung wildly in her wake, the only trace of her presence a neatly stacked pile of cash where the motorcycle once stood.

Her laughter mixed with the rising roar of the bike, an electrified hum filling the air as she streaked through the streets. Civilians and security alike stood frozen in disbelief, their shock swallowed by the blur of speed.

The wind howled past her ears, pulling strands of hair from beneath her cap and whipping them through the air. The city blurred, and neon lights streaked like painted lines in her periphery as she weaved effortlessly between cars. The Arc moved like an extension of herself, responding to every weight shift and calculated throttle twist.

Freedom.

The rush of air burned against her skin, numbing the restless, simmering anger in her chest. The static in her mind quieted—replaced by the symphony of speed. With a flick of her wrist, she lifted the bike into a wheelie.

"Whoooooooo!"

For a moment, nothing else existed. No mission, no shadows lurking, no past clawing r. Just the road, the hum of the machine, and the fire in her veins.

A sharp vibration sounded in her pocket.

Her jaw clenched. With a sigh, she rounded a tight loop beneath an overpass, the tunnel swallowing her in darkness. The headlight cut through the black, illuminating the damp walls of a dead-end alley. Rolling to a slow stop, she pulled the phone from her pocket, eyes narrowing at the caller ID.

A single X.

She exhaled through her nose and answered. "What now?"

"Lose the attitude. Do you have a ride now?"

"Of course I do."

"Good. Start making minor adjustments. You'll need them."

The line suddenly went dead.

Master Raven scowled at the screen. "Rude."

Then again, he wasn't wrong.

She smirked, tapping a gloved finger against the sleek body of the Arc. 'Time to make this beast even better.'

10:29 A.M.:

Victor's fingers hovered over the cold, metallic handcuffs, their polished surface gleaming under the dim glow of the command center's lights. Something about them unsettled him—an odd weight beyond the physical. With a quiet clink, he set them down atop the console.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

An alert's rhythmic pulse cut through the machinery's quiet hum. Victor's eyes snapped to the holographic map above the table, its translucent blue surface marred by the sudden appearance of a red tracking dot. His brows furrowed. His subordinates instinctively stepped closer, peering at the shifting 3D projection.

Kevon pointed at the blinking mark. "That's nearby?"

Victor nodded, fingers tapping the controls to hone in on the highlighted location. "Seems like Tatyana must've left a tracking dot there. You, Emani, and Raven will investigate."

"Understood," Kevon replied with a sharp nod.

Poof.

Cargo's Car Wash:

Three figures stood atop a weathered apartment building, their dark silhouettes framed against the flickering cityscape. The wind howled as they overlooked their destination—a seemingly unremarkable car wash in the city's forgotten corner. The neon sign sputtered with a weak, intermittent glow, painting the cracked pavement below in a sickly red hue. Vibrant and chaotic graffiti sprawled across the outer walls, each color clashing in a display of urban defiance. Rusted spray cans and scattered tools littered the lot, remnants of past visitors.

Raven squinted. "An abandoned car wash?"

Kevon rubbed his chin, his sharp eyes scanning the scene below. "There's gotta be a reason she left a tracker here. Think you can check the security footage, Emani?"

His wife didn't answer immediately. Instead, she pressed her gloved fingers together, activating the tech in her suit. A faint hum followed, and a transparent holographic screen flickered to life above her wrist. The live security feed materialized, displaying the empty streets below from an elevated angle. Emani swiped her fingers left, rewinding the footage rapidly. Hours peeled away in seconds, shadows shifting and reversing until the screen revealed a lone figure stepping out of a sleek red muscle car.

Their unit master.

"A street race meetup spot. Why here?" Raven questioned.

They watched as another figure approached—a bald man wearing a denim vest. His movements exuded casual authority.

Emani didn't hesitate. With a single tap, the feed froze. The screen zoomed in on the man's face, enhancing details before feeding them into the UN's criminal database.

CARGO

NAME: Amis Winston

AGE: 34

HEIGHT: 5'9"

ORIGIN: Sydney, Australia

WANTED IN: Australia, Poland, Sweden, Russia

KNOWN CRIMES: Arson, Grand Theft Auto, Evading Authorities, Murder, Vehicular Homicide

KNOWN ALLIES: The Mechanic, Silent Assassin

Seems to have a close connection with the criminal known as Xeon.

Raven's gaze lingered on the name, which had a vague connection to Cargo. "Xeon... Why does that name sound..."

A sudden chill traveled up his spine, freezing his breath. The sensation was immediate and all-consuming, like unseen eyes piercing through him, peeling past the layers of his suit, digging deep into something more vulnerable. His instincts flared.

Something was watching him.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears as his eyes snapped toward the trees beyond the parking lot. There, amid the swaying branches, stood a shadow. Motionless. Watching.

He blinked, and the figure was gone.

His skin prickled. "Did I just—"

"Raven."

Emani's voice cut through the fog in Raven's mind, pulling him back from the phantom sensation crawling along his nerves.

"Huh?"

"Xeon," she repeated, her tone sharp yet measured. "Does that name mean anything to you?"

His lips parted slightly. He struggled to grasp the faint memory forming at the edges of his consciousness, which slipped through like smoke.

"Perhaps."

Raven's deep brown eyes narrowed at the flickering holographic screen. His gaze lingered on the blackened visor of the mugshot displayed before him. Something about it stirred a distant recollection—heavy, shrouded, just out of reach.

"Show me his profile."

The screen refreshed.

XEON

NAME: N/A

AGE: N/A

HEIGHT: 5'11"

ORIGIN: San Francisco, California

WANTED IN: United States, Tokyo, South Korea, China, New Zealand, Egypt, Dubai

KNOWN CRIMES: Arson, Evading Authorities, Murder, Kidnapping

KNOWN ALLIES: Bishop, The Mechanic, Commander Crow

The only image available was grainy—a mugshot with a cracked helmet. Yet, despite the fractured surface, the visor remained intact, obscuring the newcomer's face. Raven's fingers twitched as he tapped his chin, his brows knitted in thought. The longer he stared at the visor, the heavier the air around him felt. The memory clawed at the edges of his mind.

His grip tightened because he knew that name but didn't know if he wanted to remember why.

Water cascaded from busted pipes overhead, making the once-dry warehouse a ruined battleground drowning in decay. Dim shafts of light pierced through the cracked ceiling, illuminating the mist curling in the damp air. The scent of rust, wet concrete, and gunpowder mixed into an acrid perfume, clinging to Raven's senses as he stood among the wreckage.

He had done it.

Raven and his group had successfully shut down an illegal arms trade, its criminals rounded up and detained, and their attempts to flee crushed under the swift force of the UN's elite. But their leader—who orchestrated everything from the shadows—remained.

Xeon.

Raven swallowed hard, his breath heavy as he struggled to steady himself. Water streamed down his face, matting his shaved black hair, and pooled at his feet in rippling waves. The last man left stood across from him, partially obscured by the dancing reflections of overhead light.

Xeon was an enigma. His black attire made him a ghost in the dim setting, only the soft neon glow from his helmet and armored vest betraying his presence. The faint red pulse from his suit flickered against the rising water, its eerie glow making him look less like a man and more like a specter. He gripped a short-staffed, double-sided blade, its polished edges gleaming as he twirled it effortlessly in his grasp.

They moved in a slow, calculated circle—two warriors measuring each other in the rising flood. Xeon's stance was light and deliberate, his boots barely disturbing the water as he adjusted his footing. Trained. Efficient. Dangerous.

Then, his voice sliced through the tension like the weapon in his hands. "I don't want to do this, kid, but I'm not afraid to hurt you."

Raven's fingers tightened around the hilts of his twin Hamidashi blades, the cool metal biting into his palms. "Surrender now, or I'll use force."

Shing.

Xeon let out a short breath. "Understood."

With a flick of his wrist, he spun his weapon behind his back and bolted forward.

Splash.

Splash.

SPLASH!

Xeon moved like lightning, dashing through the water before launching onto an ammunition crate. The motion barely disrupted the flood, a testament to his precision. Raven barely had time to react before his opponent dropped down, his blade raised overhead—

Shing!

Raven met him midair, crossing his blades in a sharp parry. Steel shrieked as the weapons clashed, sparks spitting off into the darkness. Xeon twisted, rolling under Raven's daggers before sweeping his foot low—

Whoosh!

Raven flipped into a back handspring, dodging just in time. Silver blurred again as Xeon lunged, his strikes fast, aggressive. Raven blocked, the impact vibrating up his arms. His eyes flicked downward—Xeon's foot shifted. A kick—fast. Too fast. Raven barely managed to duck as a heel nearly cracked against his temple. Another came for his ribs—he twisted, daggers flashing. Xeon flipped backward over the strike, barely touched, but still landed a quick snap kick against Raven's knee.

Smack!

And another against his chest—

Thud!

Raven stumbled back a step but retaliated immediately, aiming a forward kick at his opponent's center. Xeon threw himself back at the last second, Raven's boot missing his face by mere inches. The criminal hit the ground in a smooth, controlled roll before kipping into a crouch. Raven was already moving again.

"Seya!"

THUD!

Raven's boot connected with Xeon's helmet, sending him skidding across the waterlogged floor. He crashed against the concrete wall, his breath hitching from the force. But even as he lifted himself from the shin-deep flood, Raven was already sprinting at him again.

Xeon's visor flared red. "Goodbye."

The words were calm. Certain.

His hand darted into his vest.

Poof!

A smoke bomb detonated at his feet, the thick cloud billowing outward in an instant.

Pow!

A single gunshot rang out, forcing Raven back as the smog enveloped the corner of the room. The water sloshed violently. The smoke thinned, revealing nothing but an empty void.

Xeon was gone.

Raven exhaled a slow breath, picking himself up from the flooded floor. His hands clenched into fists as frustration settled in. His target had escaped.

"An elusive criminal, not high profile but not typical either. We clashed twice, and he escaped each time. It seems he's helping Tatyana."

"There has to be a possible ulterior motive for why he would get involved," Kevon assumed, his jaw tightened.

"Maybe..." Raven answered. "Xeon isn't exactly straightforward either. Whatever he has planned must be small for now, or he hasn't told her."

Emani nodded. "Tatyana probably wouldn't think to ask while going rogue."

Kevon pressed the button at the center of his communication device.

Beep.

"What did you find, Kevon?"

"Nothing big, but this location is a street race meetup. We found security camera footage of Tatyana driving a vehicle with another criminal. Xeon."

"Hmmm, we may have more trouble on our hands than we initially thought. Anything else?"

"No, but..."

Kevon's head snapped to the left. A shadow stared at him as it stood behind a lamppost. He blinked his eyes, and a pair of purple ones met his own.

"Kevon?"

He blinked again, and the shadow disappeared. "Uh-No, nothing for now. However, send a few units down to the location. Seems to be a key watch spot for the Mechanic's goons."

"Understood."

Beep.

Kevon looked at Raven and Emani. "We got what we needed. Let's head back to base."

They both nodded.

Poof.

Kevon was just about to teleport away but felt the unsettling chill of eyes on him again. This time, the shadow stared from a dark corner of the taller building above him. His eyebrows creased while slipping a shuriken from his belt and threw it.

Shing.

The shadow once again disappeared, and the shuriken lodged in the wall.

Kevon shook his head with a grumble. "It's probably nothing."

Poof.

Aron pulled the shuriken from the concrete wall, glancing at the new chip in one of its sharpened arms. Just above the center circle, a crescent moon inside an oval engraved into its silver body.

He laughed. "Only a matter of time... but I must be patient still."

Admiring the weapon, the crazed surgeon soon made his way over to the staircase that led back to the street, chuckling as his cruel, crooked smirk returned.

12:41 P.M.:

Master Raven's fingers curled over the bike's frame, her grip tightening as she scanned the newly loosened suspension spring. Her vision wavered—blurry at the edges, sharp at the center—like a camera struggling to focus. She took a slow, shuddering breath, her chest rising and falling in the heavy silence of the dimly lit garage.

Her pulse throbbed at her temples, a dull, relentless rhythm that refused to subside.

"F-fuck..."

A voice slithered into her mind, smooth yet edged with cruel amusement.

"Tired again?" Anger cooed, arms crossed, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips. She stood in the periphery of Master Raven's consciousness like a phantom, half in shadow, half in fire. "You should sleep."

Raven exhaled sharply, rolling her stiff shoulders. "And let you torture me again?"

"Please," Anger scoffed, tilting her head. "The adrenaline's run its course. At this point, your mind is too exhausted to do anything but freefall into silence."

A trap, one she knew better than to believe that.

"Or worse," Master Raven countered, her voice edged with defiance. "You think I'm stupid enough to fall for that?"

Anger rolled her eyes, the flicker of amusement barely masking her irritation. "I can't function either if we don't get any rest, dumbass."

A breath of laughter escaped Master Raven—tired, humorless. "Good." She wiped the back of her wrist over her eyes, swallowing down the exhaustion clawing at her throat. "Maybe that'll stop you from doing something reckless."

Anger's smirk deepened. "Then maybe I need to prove a point."

The pain struck like lightning. A searing, electric jolt at the base of Master Raven's skull commenced, sharp enough to force a strangled gasp from her throat. Her knees nearly buckled as her head pulsed with unbearable pressure, like unseen hands were squeezing her brain in a vice. The ringing started—high-pitched, violent. The sound drilled into her ears, drowning out everything else.

"No. No. No."

Her vision fractured, drowning in a swirling sea of crimson. Shadows twisted at the edges, writhing like living things. The faint peaks of sunlight spilling through the garage windows became distorted, white streaks lost in the growing red void. She gritted her teeth, her breath coming in sharp gasps.

"No... No. No. No..."

Her grip on reality frayed before the dam broke.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAA—!"

A voice—her own, but not hers—roared in her skull, shaking the fabric of her being. Somewhere in the distance, distant yet dangerously close, another voice snapped through the chaos.

"Don't— Control yourself!"

Chains rattled amid darkened fog and light ashfall that mimicked snow. Master Raven followed the sound, stopping at the sight before her. Anger stood over another version of herself. One she knew as her Control, dressed in her formal wear and currently struggling to defend herself against her rage.

Shing!

Blades clashed, the impact sending Control stumbling and eventually to one knee. Anger spun her blade in hand, strolling with a triumphant smirk. "Doesn't feel so good being on the other side of the glass. Unable to watch and instead TAKE IT!"

Master Raven blinked. In an instant, Control stood and blocked the reddened chokutō blade with her silver katana, holding a steely gaze that morphed into a vengeful grimace.

"There it is," Anger stated with a grin.

The world pulsed a lively red like a heartbeat, Control suddenly losing her strength and falling back. Master Raven blinked again, now on her hands and knees.

"Pick up your weapon," Amger's voice demanded around her.

The sword lay on the ground; its silver blade snapped in half.

"Wh-what?"

"Pick up your weapon."

Victor shook his head. "You were once a great master. Yet, I cannot pass my blade to you."

Her eyebrows sunk. "I've trained my entire life and ran errands on your command, and you tell me no?"

"That is exactly why. Just like your father, you're not ready without restrained self-control."

"I am nothing like him."

"Prove it."

She couldn't. "Please, don't leave me."

He rubbed the back of his head. "I can't tell if you're pleading or ordering me not to."

"I—"

"Be honest." Anger's armored foot landed against her stomach.

"Ack!" Master Raven grunted, rolling back and landing on her side.

"You're nothing without me!" She laughed, sounding almost manic. "If it weren't for me, you'd be dead!"

"I HATE IT!"

"Ralin—"

"You're not listening to me. I—"

"Again. Pointless."

"Are you serious right now? This isn't a subordinate and leader time, Ty. I'm trying to talk to you as a friend."

"A friend would know when the situation is redundant and fix it."

She gripped the sand beneath her, and a calm wind soon turned harsh. The sand blew from her tightening grasp, slipping through it like her unwilling ease of control over her rage.

"Wake up."

The manic laugh echoed around her again.

"Wake up."

Keep telling yourself that.

"Wake up."

"Don't you dare turn your back on me!"

Raven shook his head. "Understood." His look sharpened, becoming cold and almost emotionless. "Master."

Another laugh.

"Wake up!"

Chains rattled loudly in the open air, accompanied by the kunoichi's strained groans. "Please... wake up."

She pulled but couldn't move.

"WAKE UUUUUUP—"

Master Raven shot up from the bed, breathing heavily with glowing eyes filled with freshly fallen tears from wailing in her sleep. Goosebumps riddled her skin from the nightmare that seemed to linger.

She sniffled before wiping her eyes. "S-shit. Good thing it wasn't real."

"Unfortunately," Anger replied.

"Shut up," Master Raven hissed, staring at the other woman with a dimmed red eye.

In return, Anger only laughed. "Buzzkill. Anyway, it's five o'clock. Get dressed; we've got affairs to attend to."

She growled, blinking. The other woman disappeared without a mocking laugh, as was her custom.

5:44 P.M.:

Master Raven stood before the cracked bathroom mirror, her gaze locked onto her reflection. The face staring back at her was familiar yet foreign—her features sharp as ever, her expression unreadable—but the right eye, dimmed and flickering with an unnatural red glow, was a quiet betrayal.

The suit she wore was her old one. The battle-worn fabric stretched over her frame, carrying with it the ghosts of past missions. The newer version sat folded in a duffel bag in the corner, untouched. Putting it on now didn't feel right—not today.

She exhaled through her nose, a slow, measured breath. The one time she wished she hadn't inherited her mother's piercing self-awareness.

Ignorance was a gift, a warm, numbing haze. Insanity was cruel only to those who never saw it coming. But for those who did? It was a nightmare—a slow, agonizing descent where every shift or deviation was noticed and cataloged.

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. Even now, the world felt wrong—too bright in places, too dark in others. The people she passed earlier had been nothing more than moving shadows, blurred figures without weight. Even the air itself carried a strange, metallic scent.

"Are you going to do something or waste time?"

Anger's voice cut through her thoughts like a blade. The specter stood behind her in the mirror, arms crossed, expression twisted in disdain.

Master Raven clenched her jaw, her face hardening as she glanced away. Saying nothing, she grabbed her sheathed chokutō from the bed and slung it over her back.

Cli-Clunk.

Mechanical arms from her Exo-Spine locked the scabbard into place, securing it like a second limb. The faint hum of the system syncing with her nervous system buzzed in the back of her mind, a sensation so familiar she barely noticed it anymore. She turned on her heel, stalking toward her Arc Vector. Swiftly, she swung her leg over the seat, gripping the handlebars almost crushingly.

VRRRRRRrrrrr.

The motorcycle roared to life, tires biting into the pavement as smoke curled from the rear.

Screee—

She shot forward, the force pressing her against the seat as she tore across the narrow catwalk. The sun hung low, bleeding through the skyline, casting long shadows over the cityscape.

She blinked hard, her eyes stinging. It was red again.

The world no longer had color—just endless shades of crimson. The trees, once green, were now tinted in unnatural hues, painted over with bloodied fingers. Master Raven's fingers twitched over the throttle. A quiet, nagging urge crept up her spine. The thought of slamming her armored fist into the nearest civilian flickered through her mind like a dying ember, brief but persistent.

She inhaled sharply, forcing her grip to steady. The numbers on the speedometer climbed.

87 MPH

91 MPH

She weaved between cars, shifting her weight as she rounded a sharp corner, the Arc Vector gliding seamlessly between lanes.

Click.

The road stretched before her, twisting into the thickened trees. The sunlight filtering through the canopy did little to ease the tension coiled in her shoulders.

She was close.

Beep.

Beep.

Her hand tightened on the brake, gradually slowing as she pulled into an empty lot. The tavern before her looked like it had better days—weathered wood, dirt-streaked windows, and a sagging roof that threatened to collapse. But the polished cars parked outside told a different story.

One, in particular, caught her attention.

At the far end of the lot sat a newly done Equus Bass, sleek in matte black, its contours traced with glowing red neon. Xeon leaned casually against the hood, arms crossed, and his dark helmet tilted as he watched her approach. She swung her leg over the bike, striding toward him without hesitation.

Xeon released a short, low whistle, his hidden gaze dragging over her. "Dressed to kill?"

Master Raven placed her hands on her hips, eyes sharp. "I'm sure I have a lot to deal with after this. Anything I should know?"

Pushing himself off the car, Xeon slipped into the driver's seat as the engine hummed beneath him. "Make it quick. Cops are faster around here."

She gave him a nod as the Equus Bass rolled toward the entrance. Before disappearing down the road, Xeon honked twice—sharp, deliberate.

Honk. Honk.

She rolled her shoulders, exhaling through her nose. The air inside the tavern was thick—an oppressive blend of sweat, gasoline, and the faint tang of cheap liquor. It clung to the walls, soaked into the battered wooden floors, and settled into the dimly lit corners where shadows lurked.

As Master Raven stepped in, the sound of her armored boots striking the ground shattered the low murmur of conversation. Heads turned, eyes locking onto her with various levels of curiosity, suspicion, and silent challenge. A smirk curled at the corner of Cargo's lips from across the room. His gaze immediately latched onto her dreadlocks.

"Haze, over here."

The watchful eyes of Toby's goons, dressed in black uniforms adorned with Bishop's crimson insignia, followed her every movement. They were undoubtedly new hires, taking over now with Bishop detained the night before. A sizeable wooden counter served as a meeting point - a map lay sprawled across its surface, pinned in place by a loaded revolver and a pistol's disassembled cylinder.

Cargo stood beside it, his fingers idly drumming on the worn wood as he licked his lips with a grin. "You clean up nicely. What's with the costume?"

"None of your business," Master Raven shot back, voice sharp as steel. "I'm here for my chance at racing the Mechanic."

Cargo chuckled. "That's what I like about you—straight to business but not shy about playing hard to get."

Master Raven rolled her eyes, making no effort to hide her growing irritation.

Cargo tapped the map with a gloved finger. "Alright, listen up. Here's the plan."

The other street racers—Travi and Luna—leaned in, their eyes flicking between him and the map.

Cargo's finger landed on a red dot, marking their location, encased in a murky green shape representing the surrounding area. "Job's simple. You'll follow Luna and Travi along Rueburn Highway to the Mechanic's shop," he explained, tracing a path with his fingertip. "From there, we switch cars. You'll transport a few goods and car parts to a drop point in Avelaine Ridge."

He glanced at Travi, who chuckled knowingly. "Or, as we like to call it—the Driftyard Swamps. Try not to get too intimidated by the cars you see there. The Mudsliders don't take kindly to outsiders. Stay quiet, and they won't be a problem."

Master Raven raised a skeptical eyebrow. "So we're supposed to follow the white rabbit without knowing the destination?"

Cargo grinned, leaning back with an air of arrogance. "Thrill is an elusive one. Can't give you all the details on the first date."

Her anger flared, vision pulsing red. "Says who?"

Cargo's smirk widened. "I do, love."

The world flashed crimson.

THUD!

Before Cargo could react, his skull slammed into the counter. The force rattled the map and sent the revolver clattering to the floor. Master Raven's armored boot crashed into his chest, hurtling him through the tavern. His body smashed through a door, disappearing into the small, grimy bathroom at the back.

Gunfire erupted.

Bullets tore through the air, splintering wood and shattering glasses behind the bar. Master Raven dove forward and rolled across the floor. Water and blood pooled beneath her palms as she kicked a door shut with her foot. A uniformed soldier lunged, swinging a knife—

Shlick!

She ripped the blade from his sheath and drove it into his eye.

"AAAAAAAH!" The agonized scream barely lasted before he crumpled.

Another goon charged, his rifle aimed—

Shing!

A chokutō blade slashed downward, cutting through his armor. The man's torso split apart in two, his body hitting the ground with a wet thud. As Master Raven moved, gunfire sparked against her blade—a blur of black and silver, deflecting bullets before sliding into a low dash.

Travi barely had time to react. With a clean horizontal slice, his legs separated from his body. Before his head could hit the floor—

Shing!

Her blade severed his neck, sending it spinning across the tavern.

Pow!

A gunshot snapped past her ear, sparks bursting from the counter. Master Raven vaulted over it, snatching up a discarded machine gun in midair.

BRATATATATAT!

Gunfire ripped through the tavern, the gunpowder's sharp stench filling the air. One by one, the remaining soldiers fell, bodies slumping over the wreckage. As her empty firearm hit the ground, a final attacker sprinted toward her, roaring.

"AAAAAH!"

'Tch.' Master Raven twisted, dodging under his blade—

Shing!

A thin red line appeared on his throat. He staggered while choking on his blood before falling lifelessly on the wooden ground.

Luna's pistol cocked, its muzzle aimed directly at Master Raven's head. "Listen, lady—"

Master Raven grinned, eyes glinting with amusement. "You wanna die, don't you?"

Luna blinked.

Shink!

The combat knife buried deep into Luna's throat. A wet gurgle escaped the blonde's lips as her hands feebly grasped the handle. Blood dripped in thick rivulets down her chest, pooling onto the counter.

Thud.

Her body collapsed, rendered into a corpse.

Stepping over the carcass, Master Raven pushed open the bathroom door to find Cargo inside; his nose bloodied with an expression twisted in horror.

"W-what in the bloody hell... Luna. Travi. You fucking killed-"

She grabbed him by the head, yanking him forward as her grip tightened. "Unless you want to join them, disclose where Toby's shop is."

Cargo laughed through his pain. "Not a chance, babe."

Tok!

His scream split the air as she drove his knife through his palm, nailing it to the counter. "AAAAARRRGH!"

Master Raven leaned in, her voice a lethal calm. "Next time, it'll be your shoulder."

Cargo shuddered, sweat dripping down his temple. "What's in it for me if I talk?"

"Your life."

"Fuck you, Haze!" Eventually, Cargo gave in and pointed shakily at the far end of the map. "That building—left of the right exit on Rueburn Highway."

"Good boy."

With one swift motion, she yanked the knife free.

"AAAAAAAGH!" Cargo howled, clutching his bleeding hand.

She stabbed the knife back down, this time pinning it in a place where his pinky had been.

Cargo collapsed backward, whimpering. "I'm gonna fuckin' kill you when I get out of here, Haze!"

Master Raven rolled her shoulders, sliding her blade back into its scabbard. "If you get out of there."

Vacating the now makeshift graveyard, Master Raven mounted her motorcycle and revved the engine without another glance. The night air was crimson, the city a blur of red streaks as she sped away, weaving between darkened vehicles.

UN Wwatchroom [Underround Lounge] - 6:59 P.M.:

"Okay, so we all jump in individually," Kevon repeated. "Victor is covering Raven while Emani and I go for her backside. Ralin, you'll—"

Beep.

Beep.

The corner of the table's holographic screen suddenly lit up with a call—no caller ID or name displayed. Victor answered it, but before he could speak, a cold but cynical voice greeted them. "Hello there, fellow enemies of my enemy."

"Aron," Raven remarked with noticeable, biting vitriol.

The crazed surgeon laughed. "Raven, nice to know you're in good health."

"Don't get so cocky, Atlas. Your days are numbered."

Aron only laughed again. "Perhaps you're correct. But this isn't about me. I just wanted to have a conversation. It seems you all could use it with what Master Raven has been doing."

"I'll be better once you're dead."

"Ah, but that isn't your kill to take. Master Raven is only one-half of what I wanted."

"What you wanted!?" Raven shot back. "If what you wanted was angry agents and threats to kill, you got it! And more than that is coming when we finally cross paths. What's the point of all this, you sick fuck!?"

"What I wanted, I can't give that away to you. As for the point..." Aron's amused, manic laugh filled the room. "The point isn't to kill, Raven. No, your superior deserves so much more than that. The point was to let her see the world in red the way I see it. To trust nobody and to kill everyone if she can help it anyway. Simple, really."

"I swear-"

Aron chuckled. "Yes! Feel that anger! It would prove helpful as of now. I truly am proud and amazed at the lovely trail of red she's left in her wake. Your superior is quite the artisan with—"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Kevon questioned.

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough. Very soon, actually."

The call ended, and a soldier rushed into the lounge as if on cue. "Admiral, we've gotten word of a serious crime scene just outside the city."

The agents exchanged looks before following the soldier out of the room.

Aron's violet eyes glowed faintly in the dimly lit surveillance room, their unnatural hue reflecting off the monitors before him. A soft hum filled the space, the gentle whir of machinery underscoring the rhythmic flicker of security feeds. His gaze fixed on one screen—a grainy, black-and-white display showing a convoy of armored Hummers rumbling down a desolate road. Their matte-black exteriors gleamed faintly under the sparse streetlights, an eerie procession of steel and shadow cutting through the night.

Through the distorted glow of the infrared feed, he spotted a familiar silhouette in the driver's seat—Victor, posture rigid, his hands gripping the wheel with controlled tension. A second figure shifted in the back, barely visible through the reinforced glass.

Aron chuckled, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he leaned back in his chair, fingers lazily drumming against the metal surface of his desk. "Once again, the flock flies to the next pile of bodies their new crow has left them," he mused, a low murmur laced with amusement.

Reaching for his phone, he scrolled through his contacts until finding the one he wanted—Idiot #1. Aron initiated the call with a deliberate press, his expression unreadable as he listened to the ringing on the other end.

After a few beats, a hesitant, uncertain voice crackled through the speaker. "Uh... Doc? Why are you calling?"

Aron's grin widened. "Calm down, Mechanic. All is well. At least for me. You? Well, I hope you have a backup plan." He let the words hang, savoring the silence before adding. "Master Raven is in town looking coming for you. Might be a good time to relocate."

The response was immediate, a mix of disbelief and poorly concealed panic. "You're joking... right? Didn't you kill her in that makeshift lab of yours?"

A deep, guttural laugh rolled from Aron's throat—dark, unhurried, and utterly devoid of warmth. On the other end, the Mechanic hesitated, clearly unnerved.

"If you haven't already figured it out..." Aron continued, silky smooth. "...agents are en route to investigate the lovely little massacre at Arlo's Keg Pin."

"What?"

"I'd suggest moving to a different part of the world."

The Mechanic exhaled sharply, his tone shifting from disbelief to frustration. "Are you having a laugh at me, Doc?"

Aron tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Not yet. Humor me. What kind of idiot returns to Australia thinking it'll be an advantage? You thought familiarity would be your edge, but it made you easier to track." His smirk deepened. "And you merely accelerated your downfall."

A scoff crackled through the speaker. "Don't lecture me. You don't have anything better."

"Oh, but I do," Aron's tone dropped, the amusement bleeding into something more condescending. "Have fun playing mouse."

"Doc, you better not—"

Beep.

The call ended.

Aron exhaled softly, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the desk. His fingers intertwined beneath his chin, a smirk still lingering on his lips. The shadows from the monitors flickered across his face, accentuating the sharpness of his features.

"That's right," he muttered, voice a whisper against the hum of the screens. "Run, idiot."

Arlo's Keg Pin - 8:02 P.M.:

The moment Ralin stepped inside, the stench of blood hit her like a hammer—thick, metallic, suffocating. She inhaled sharply, her breath hitching as her eyes darted over the carnage. Bodies slumped against overturned tables, shattered glass glittering in pools of crimson, and the walls were smeared with streaks of red as if the massacre itself had tried to claw its way free.

"Fuck!"

She recoiled as her boot nearly landed on a body—a blonde woman in a tattered denim vest sprawled lifelessly on the floor. A jagged knife jutted from her throat, the handle slick with drying blood. Ralin swallowed hard and nudged the corpse over with her foot, flinching as the full extent of the wound came into view. The woman's glassy eyes stared at the ceiling, frozen in silent horror.

A familiar, steady voice cut through the tension. "Find something?"

Ralin snapped her head up to see Raven approaching, his dark eyes scanning the scene with practiced calculation.

"If you mean an image that'll scar me for life, then yeah," she exhaled, shaking her head. "I found something alright."

Raven adjusted his glasses, stepping closer. His brows knit together as he took in the mangled body at their feet, lips pressing into a firm line. "I don't think Ty would be cruel enough to do... this."

His hesitation betrayed his uncertainty.

"Unfortunately," Victor interjected, his tone edged with finality. "That's what happened here." He tapped a small button on the side of his sunglasses, the faint glow of data reflecting in his lenses before vanishing. Turning to the rest of the group, he delivered the cold truth: "Tatyana killed everyone inside."

A heavy silence settled over them, broken only by the distant creak of a ceiling fan still spinning lazily above the carnage.

"But why?" Emani questioned, arms crossing tightly over her chest. "There has to be a connection other than just a simple massacre."

Raven exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Possibly another spike in her anger due to the scanner."

"No, no," Kevon interjected, his voice tight, almost pleading.

His fingers raked through his dark hair, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. The sight before him—the bar bathed in red, bodies slumped like discarded puppets—contradicted every fiber of his being. His daughter wouldn't do this without reason. Kevon's pulse drummed in his ears, the overpowering scent of blood sending a cold ripple down his spine. He tore his gaze from the bodies, scanning the wreckage, looking for something—anything—that would make sense of this madness.

And then he saw it - a map spread across the counter.

His breathing hitched, and his muscles tensed as he stepped closer, studying meticulously. His eyes flicked between the marking and calculations running through his mind.

"Bread crumbs..." Kevon muttered.

Emani shot him a puzzled look. "What?"

"Bread crumbs," her husband repeated, a breath of uneasy laughter escaping him.

Relief flickered across his features—an odd expression given the situation. The others gathered around as he pointed to a black dot in the center of the map.

"We're here." His finger traced the inked mark near a green splotch in the lower right corner. He moved to another dot—a blue one further left. "And that's the meetup spot." Finally, his gaze locked onto a small knife symbol sketched near the top. His voice was steadier now. "And this knife... could be Toby's shop."

Emani quickly pulled up the location on her device. "Courtyard near Rueburn Highway... Mech's Body Shop."

Kevon nodded, his confidence solidifying. "Our girl is smart. We need to head down there."

Victor crossed his arms, placing a thoughtful hand on his chin. "Right, but we should keep our distance. We—"

A faint, muffled noise came from the room's far side. "Hello? Anyone out there?"

The group snapped to attention. The UN soldiers immediately raised their weapons, barrels trained on the only door left untouched by the massacre—the bathroom. The air in the tavern turned electric, thick with the sharp focus of trained operatives ready to strike. One of the soldiers took point, stepping forward with careful precision. He reached down, dragging a body out of the way before gripping the door handle. He took a slow exhale.

The door swung open. A man stood on the threshold, hands raised in surrender - Cargo.

He exhaled, his face a mix of exhaustion and forced bravado. "Nice to see you again, boys. Listen, I—"

"Save it, Cargo."

One of the soldiers holstered his weapon before swiftly clamping thick cuffs around the man's wrists.

"We'll take it from here, Admiral." He turned to Victor with a sharp nod. "Go find your Agent."

Victor barely acknowledged Cargo's presence as he pivoted toward the exit. Without another word, he stepped out into the night, the rest of the team following close behind.

Mech's Body Shop - 8:33 P.M.:

Toby dragged a hand through his messy hair, fingers against his temple, glaring at the TV screen mounted on the stained concrete wall. His pulse throbbed beneath his fingertips, an erratic drumbeat of frustration and rage.

"UN agents just left here after a massacre from one of their members gone rogue. Several security cameras caught the brutal murders of multiple people inside, including—"

"Fuck!"

The word tore from his throat, raw and furious, as his arm snapped forward. The half-empty beer bottle flew across the room, shattering against the screen in an explosion of glass and amber liquid. The impact sent a spiderweb of cracks racing across the display, but the feed continued flickering—distorted yet unmistakable.

Master Raven stood among the bodies of his men, her expression impassive. With a chilling finality, her chokutō slid back into its sheath. The image froze—a cruel, digital mockery.

Toby's jaw clenched so hard it ached.

"Toby!" a voice barked from outside. "We're ready to go."

His lips parted, and he exhaled slowly through his nose as his hand drifted to his holster. With a practiced motion, he slid out his revolver, the polished steel catching the dim light of the shop. He thumbed the cylinder, spinning it slowly, watching the bullets rotate in perfect rhythm. Each one was pristine, meticulously prepped, and ready to bury themselves in flesh. His thick, dark eyebrows lowered, his features hardening into something colder, sharper. The smell of gasoline lingered in the air, a familiar, acrid scent mingled with the musk of motor oil and burnt rubber. He inhaled deeply, rolling his shoulders before steadily releasing the breath.

Then he chuckled, low and dry.

Sliding the revolver back into its holster, Toby reached into his jacket and pulled out a box of cigars. He popped one between his lips, the end rolling slightly between his teeth as he spoke.

"Anyone got a light?"

One of the soldiers flicked open a lighter, the small flame casting an orange glow against his rugged face. Toby leaned in and took a slow puff, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"Thanks, bud."

Without another word, Toby strode toward the front of the shop. Outside, under the dim floodlights, a convoy of vehicles awaited—the remnants of Bishop's Brooke Squadron. The engines of two modified muscle cars rumbled like caged beasts, flanking the massive armored cargo truck filled with the last of his men. Another armored truck idled behind them, its reinforced frame glinting under the flickering neon of the shop sign.

Toby's focus landed on only one vehicle - his jewIt was al.

It was a 1969 Pontiac GTO Judge, its vibrant orange body gleaming under the fluorescent glow and black racing stripes cutting sleek lines down the hood. The chrome shone immaculately despite years of reckless chases and violent getaways. Its leather interior—black with bright yellow stitching—was just as pristine as the day he'd stolen it from his uncle at seventeen.

Toby ran a finger along the smooth, polished hood, his touch almost reverent. "And the last thing that bastard saw was my headlights."

Sliding into the driver's seat, he turned the key. The engine roared to life, a deep, guttural growl vibrating through the frame. He smirked, fingers grazing the dashboard before reaching for the radio built into the car.

Beep.

"On your mark, Mech," the soldier's voice crackled through the speaker.

Toby tapped the blue button beneath it. "Keep your guns ready, boys. We ride until the tires scream!"

With a sudden stomp on the gas, the GTO's tires screeched against the pavement, sending thick clouds of smoke billowing into the night air. The vehicle shot forward like a bullet from a chamber, tearing down the street with a furious roar. Behind him, the armored convoy followed, headlights slicing through the darkness.

Unknown Location:

A flash of lightning split the sky, momentarily bathing the world in a harsh, white glow.

CRACK!

The heavens roared in response, the violent storm symphony shaking the night. In its wake, the darkness returned, thicker, heavier—alive with anticipation.

A long blade whispered free from its sheath, its steely song slicing through the humid air. The armored hand gripping the hilt was steady, deliberate. The weapon hummed, the vibration coursing through the wielder's fingers like an electric current.

A wicked smile curled at their lips, their grip tightening.

Beep.

Bee—

"Mechanic's on the move. I'll be hanging back to make sure nothing goes haywire."

A low chuckle. "And what if it does?"

"I have a few bombs set on a bridge before they reach their take-off point."

The response was as casual as it was deadly.

"A bit over the top."

"I never said Toby needed to live. I want him out of the picture like you do."

"Of course. Watch out for the cops, Xeon."

"Be sure to give Toby what he deserves."

Beep.

The call ended, leaving behind only the static hum of the storm and the restless purr of an engine.

Clink.

The ōdachi clicked into place on Master Raven's back, resting over the sheathed chokutō. The weight was fami andiar, grounding. A chill snaked down her spine, not from fear but the electric thrill of the hunt. Her hands gripped the handlebars of the Vector motorcycle, its sleek, black frame gleaming under the flickering neon of the empty street. Rain threatened, and the air was thick with the scent of ozone, gasoline, and the harbor's distant, salty whisper.

Her smirk widened, her bright red eye gleaming like a dying ember in the shadows. The world flashed white once more.

CRACK!

The first raindrops fell, hissing against the pavement.

"Finally... the fun commences."

With a sudden roar, the Vector shot forward, tires biting into the wet asphalt, sending a mist spray into the air. The engine's growl merged with the storm's fury, a beast racing through the veins of Sydney's streets.

She disappeared into the night—a ghost, a shadow, a promise of blood.

Victor's hands gripped the armored hummer's steering wheel with unwavering focus, the leather wrapping creaking under the pressure of his fingers. Inside the vehicle, the world was eerily quiet, save for the steady hum of the engine and the occasional crackle of chatter from the radio.

Beside him, Raven sat motionless, arms crossed, his head slightly bowed. Behind his dark sunglasses, his eyes remained closed—not in unrest, but deep meditation. His mind was attuned to the road's vibrations, the distant sirens beyond, and the tension crackling in the air like the prelude to a storm.

Then, the radio's monotonous static shifted, replaced by a reporter's clear, urgent voice. "Mechanic, Toby Greene, and his men are currently fleeing the city—"

Raven's eyes snapped open. The volume dial clicked as he turned it up.

"He and his group of criminals are driving along Rueburn Highway, heading toward a known hideout somewhere near Arlo's Keg Pin—"

"Victor," Raven commanded, calm but firm. "Floor it."

No hesitation. Victor's foot slammed against the gas pedal, shifting gears as the hummer roared forward.

SCREEEEEE!

The massive vehicle lurched, tires screeching, as it took a hard turn and skid across the concrete before straightening onto the freeway.

Up ahead, Master Raven leaned low, cutting the air like a bullet atop her Vector motorcycle. Her body tilted as she rounded a corner, her armored fist trailing along the concrete barrier, sending sparks cascading behind her. Her dark eyes locked onto the red glow of taillights ahead—a cargo truck flanked by three armored vehicles. Her right eye flickered, the embedded tech glowing crimson.

The world blinked into white light.

CLAP!

Thunder rattled the air.

Bzzt.

A slow breath escaped her lips as her fingers traced over the hilt of her ōdachi. The cold steel hummed beneath her touch. Every muscle in her body tensed, adrenaline coiling like a viper in her veins. But there was no wicked smirk—no gleeful anticipation of battle.

Only absolute focus.

"There!" Raven barked, pointing ahead.

Victor's eyes flicked to the motorcyclist weaving through traffic like a phantom, dreadlocks whipping in the wind.

"Think we can stop her here?"

Raven's fingers curled around the hilt of his blade, spinning it with practiced ease. "We have a chance."

Victor's smirk was grim as he slammed the gas pedal deeper, the hummer closing the distance.

Bzzt.

Master Raven's lips pressed into a thin line as she adjusted her position, the HUD in her eye flashing red with proximity alerts.

Click!

SCREEEEEE!

Her tires shrieked as she suddenly cut her bike into a tight drift, spinning in a slow circle just as the hummer bore down on her.

"Crap," Raven exhaled.

Victor barely had time to react before silver glints cut through the dark.

Dozens of Shuriken.

They sliced through the air, gleaming under the streetlights.

THUD-THUD-THUD!

The hummer jolted as several stars embedded themselves into its armored plating. And then—

BOOM!

An explosion rocked the vehicle's front left tire, sending it lurching off the ground. For a brief second, everything slowed.

Raven took a deep breath before launching himself forward.

Poof.

A displacement of air. Master Raven moved. Her hand shot out, gripping the body of her motorcycle, swinging herself around with inhuman precision.

THUD.

Her heel collided with Raven's chest.

"Gah!"

The impact sent him soaring backward, but he twisted midair, rolling across the pavement before planting his boots against the ground in a sliding stop. His breath was steady, his stance unshaken. His sunglasses reflected the fading blur of Master Raven's form—speeding ahead, disappearing into the night with Mechanic's caravan.

"It's not over yet." Raven's brows furrowed behind his shades as he tapped his earpiece. "Li, how's it looking up there?"

Skyward, a small mini-jet whizzed through the sky, its blue lights blinking once before shutting off. Ralin crouched atop the drone-controlled jet, one foot balanced against the sleek surface, keeping her gaze on the fleeing targets.

"All good up here. I can see Ty clear as day."

"Good. Remember, keep your distance."

"No need to remind me, dude. I got this."

Raven sighed through his nose but held his tongue. Now wasn't the time to remind her about every bomb-related accident under her watch.

"Understood." He turned his gaze back to the distant convoy.

"What now?" Kevon asked. "We can't just sit here."

"The best we can do is wait for her to return to her hideout," Raven explained. She can't take down all of us."

Kevon flicked his right hand.

Shing!

His claw blade extended, still sharpened with a few notches from its years of use.

"Kevon-"

"Trust me, Jada," he began, eyeing the weapon affixed to his hand. "I don't want to do it either, but we don't have a choice right now. If Ty's willing to hurt us if we get in her way, we need to level the playing field."

Emani paused, her fisted hands shook at her sides. "Fine..."

Master Raven spun around, returning her focus to the caravan ahead while ignoring her reddening vision as she got closer. She gripped the hilt of the ōdachi, holding the blade out before flicking her wrist.

Shiiiiiing!

The sharp siren song of the weapon filled the air, and she made sure the caravan of vehicles saw her as she came closer.

"Mech!" A soldier yelled, raising the scope of his sniper. "We got company!"

Toby looks up into his rearview mirror, only grinning at the armored kunoichi coming closer. With a chuckle, he took the cigarette from his mouth, tapping the blue button. "Nothing stops a strong set of wheels. Let 0 have her."

"Got it. We'll keep our sights locked on this chick."

Toby laughed, "Chase, chase, chase. Bring it on, lady."

VRRRRR!

The Pontiac's engine growled and sped ahead, the armored and cargo truck doing so too. That left the kunoichi to deal with the two modded vehicles. They began to box her in. She gritted her teeth before pulling the break.

Screeee!

She slid back, stabbing the driver on her right and slicing through the car's tire on her left.

Boom!

Both cars crashed into each other as the kunoichi leaned around the wreckage. The three vehicles quickly caught up; the armed squad member aimed his sniper, the red dot landing between her eyebrows. He squeezed the trigger.

Pew!

Master Raven blinked, her left eye brightening to deadly gold. The world seemed to slow down around her. She shifted.

Click.

She pulled the handlebars, and the motorcycle began to spin. Holding the blade at a specific angle, she blinked.

TING!

Bullets rained down as the kunoichi spun in a circle, pulling the throttle back into a slow wheelie as seven over-armed men on motorcycles flew from the cargo truck. Master Raven lowered to the bike as one flew overhead. Her eyes landed on the guy who stood in the middle of more armed soldiers, covered in sleek metal armor with a metal mask and wielding a long cleaver sword the same length as a katana. The same dark red head over his head. The guy watching her from that shady club. A name engraved onto the blade's body.

3xecutioner 0.

Inhaling sharply, Master Raven held the blade and twisted it.

Shing!

A body and motorcycle tumbled to the ground. Master Raven leaned back, shifting.

Click!

The ōdachi cut through another.

Boom!

She swerved, sliding her chokutō from its sheath to deflect bullets and dodge blades with simple leans and well-placed drift spins.

"Uh!" Master Raven grunted, throwing her ōdachi into the air.

She gripped the break.

Screee!

The Arc Vector slid back, giving her enough room to lean back from a blade. An armed henchmen aimed his gun. Master Raven placed her hand on the Arc's body. Lifting her body, she swung around into a flare. Kicking the pistol his hand before another kick landed at his head.

Smack!

"Raah!" Another henchman grunted, swiping his blade.

She twisted her shoulder, pulling off a corkscrew over his katana and countering with a double drop kick.

SMACK!

3xecutioner 0 jumped toward the kunoichi. Master Raven veered past him, the ōdachi returning from the sky as they sped along the highway. She inhaled sharply and caught it.

SHING!

Sparks flew from blades colliding as they ground against each other. Master Raven gritted her teeth to hold him back. She shifted.

VRRR!

The motorcycle was sent flying, and the two combatants went with it. Master Raven righted herself, letting the ōdachi fall before returning to the falling bike. She slipped Bishop's pistol from the holster and took a deep breath. Master Raven closed an eye, aiming at the men shooting her from the cargo truck.

Pow!

Pow!

Pow!

Pow!

Pow!

Six bodies tumbled from the cargo truck.

"Uh!" She grabbed the ōdachi, quickly sliding her chokutō back into its sheath, and braced for impact.

Thud!

Another henchman readied his katana. Master Raven turned the handlebars and veered left.

CLANK!

The back wheel of her Arc swiped the henchman's front wheel, sending him tumbling down the road. Master Raven leaned back from 3xecutioner 0's blade, again holding him back. Their tires slid across the concrete while they spun in a circle.

"Rah!" 3xecutioner 0 grunted, kicking her back.

The kunoichi swerved as a bullet missed her foot. She quickly blocked and parried his cleaver, twisting her ōdachi.

"Ack!"

The last henchmen following them fell off his bike after being impaled in the throat.

Pow!

A bullet grazed her arm, eliciting an irritated growl. "Enough of this bullshit!"

3xecutioner 0 swung his sword. With a simple flick of a wrist, Master Raven nailed the ōdachi to the ground, swinging around it to block his blade. She narrowed her eyes, weaving around an SUV. One of the shooters pulled the pin of his grenade. The kunoichi pulled on the break, tossing a shuriken at the tires of the cargo truck.

SCREEE—

BOOM!

3xecutioner 0 jumped from his motorcycle as the truck exploded. Master Raven increased her speed and activated the nitrous. Xeon leaned on the hood of his car, a remote in hand, as he watched the scene from below on a hill. Explosives lined the bridge as it crossed a river seventy feet below—a deep, unpleasant fall.

He chuckled before pressing the button. "Good timing, Master Raven."

Beep.

Beep.

Boom!

Toby slammed on the break. "Shit. Shit. Shit!"

Screeeeeeee!

The Pontiac slid forward, the front bumper grinding against the ground even as it neared the destroyed, crumbled edge.

Clank!

The car's hood hung over the destroyed bridge, giving Toby a view of the lake below.

Vrrrr!

Master Raven shot through the flames and landed on the ground, letting her foot down as she slid with the vehicle before stopping. 3xecutioner 0 stood several feet ahead near the toppled armored truck. He nodded, walking back with a cocky attitude as if he'd just won in their vehicular clash. The kunoichi growled, glaring at him as though she could see the smirk behind his metal mask. Soon, his heavy steps faded into silence, and he disappeared into the heavy smoke of the fiery cargo truck.

Getting off her motorcycle, Master Raven clipped the ōdachi to her back. She ignored Toby as he slowly made his way out of the car he left running. She punched the trunk, which smashed the lock.

Thud!

The Pontiac jolted forward, the deep water seemingly grinning at Toby from below. Master Raven grinned and grabbed a thick rope and a jerry can of gasoline.

Toby slowly stood on solid ground and sighed. "Fuckin, final—"

Smack!

He didn't have time to react after a fist landed against his jaw, and a pair of armored hands slammed him to the hood of his car. The windshield below him lay almost wholly shattered. He inhaled sharply, his mind hazed from the impact.

"Ah," Toby blinked his eyes hard, the world finally speeding up again.

He looked up, finding his hands tied to the side mirrors of his car. "What the fuck—"

Master Raven narrowed her eyes. "You choose how this ends, Toby. Move the wrong way and die, the cops take you, or scream too loud, and I paralyze you from the neck down."

"W-what?"

She chuckled with a smirk, her eyes gleaming with joy and insanity. "Killing you would be too easy." Her eyes narrowed. "You deserve worse. So, be a good boy and stay put."

Toby swallowed hard. "R-right. For once, I'd be happy as a twat to see a cop right now."

Master Raven flicked the cap off the jerry can, pouring a trail to the Pontiac before tossing it near the fiery cargo truck. A cough sounded off from the collapsed armored truck. Haruto climbed out the broken driver-side door, slowly reaching a vertical base. His eyes instantly landed on her, even while wiping the blood from his busted lip.

Haruto glared venomously at his assailant. "Pesky bitch."

Bzzt.

Her vision became a deeper red. "What did you just say?"

The shadow amid the red void only cackled.

"AAAAAAAAAH!"

Blood spurted profusely from Haruto's arm before Master Raven pushed her chokutō blade through his flesh, tearing the limb from his body.

"Aaaagh!"

She picked up his modded 1911 from the floor and stalked the dazed former Commander, looking down at him with disgust before slashing his throat. Haruto struggled to scream through the blood filling his mouth as he fell to his knees, his life fading away. Master Raven couldn't stand the sight of him and delivered a powerful kick to his chest.

DONG!

Haruto slammed into the toppled armored truck, drowning in his blood. Master Raven got back onto her motorcycle and sped off into the darkness.

Above, Ralin tapped her earpiece. "Bad news: The bridge went up in smoke. Good news: The cops are coming to arrest the Mech. Tatyana is making her way back to her safe house."

"Got it. Tail her."

"But aren't we—"

"Just keep your distance."

"I'm not risking that. It would make more sense to catch Ty at a nearby airport. There has to be a plane heading to her intended destination."

"Alright. Regroup at Perth International Airport."

"Understoo—Wait, do I have to wait near the armored truck again?"

"Li..."

Ralin sighed audibly. "Right. Whatever."

She ended the call, lowering into a knee as the drone picked up speed while rolling her eyes and muttering in Mandarin.「總是板凳李。爛透了」(Always the bench, Li. This sucks.)

Xeon entered his Equus, effortlessly reversing off the hill and following the dirt road back to the regular roadways. He called an unlabeled contact in his phone, a slow, long ring.

"What is it?"

He held his chuckle at the sound of her crazed, velvet voice. "Where are you heading next?"

"Don't know. I have no current info on my next target."

"Who is it?"

"A guy called the Doctor. Know him?"

"He's in Russia. Siberia, specifically."

"Got it."

"They're going to block the airport again if you take a plane. I saw the footage already. A freight train to Russia is a few yards from the airport, leaving around 10:40. Don't miss it."

Beep.

Xeon tapped a finger on the steering wheel. "I wonder what Raven will say when we cross paths again."

Unknown Location - 10:22 P.M.:

The red light of a laptop's webcam blinked rhythmically, silently observing the turmoil unfolding. The dim glow painted the room in a haunting crimson pulse, barely illuminating the shadowed figure standing before it.

Master Raven leaned over the desk, her fingers digging into the cold metal as if it were the only thing keeping her tethered to reality. Her breath came fast and ragged, her chest rising and falling like a storm barely restrained but winning. A heavy silence pressed into her skull, suffocating her thoughts—if called such anymore. The world around her turned red, every hue, shadow, and lingering memory stained in the aftermath of Haruto's death.

Her grip tightened. A low, unhinged laugh spilled from her lips, twisted and raw. And then—

"I wanted to kill him so bad!" Master Raven shouted, her voice cracking under the weight of something she couldn't quite name.

The echo of her own words rattled in her ears, bouncing off the cold, unfeeling walls. Her shoulders shuddered as the laughter died in her throat, leaving behind only the sound of her breathing—jagged, unsteady.

Bzzt.

Her reflection flickered on the darkened screen, but the eyes staring back weren't her own.

"I... can't tell if I'm becoming the thing I hate or finally freeing myself from being... controlled."

A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, but no humor existed. "Why hold back? What's the point? We kill... and think we're the good people?"

Bzzt!

Pain lanced through her skull. She hissed, a hand snapping to her temple, fingers clawing through her scalp. Through the cracks between her fingers, Master Raven peered at the screen—at the face that no longer looked like hers.

"I don't think I can control myself much longer..."

Perth - Streets:

The city lights blurred into streaks of neon as Master Raven weaved through the surprisingly busy streets, her Vector motorcycle purring beneath her like a beast sensing its rider's turmoil. The duffle bag slung over her shoulders jostled with every turn, but she barely noticed. The wind whipped at her dreadlocks, her face impassive with an eerily quiet mind.

There were no echoes of gunfire, screams, or phantom scent of blood in the air. For the first time in what felt like forever, Master Raven's mind didn't think about violence: just the open road, the power between the handlebars, and the next destination - Russia.

She took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders. 'Just make it there, and I can finally end this.'

The thought should've brought relief, but something cold and distant lingered beneath it. Master Raven rounded the corner, shooting past the airport gates into the plane ramp lot—

Bzzt!

"Aah!"

A sudden, searing spike of pain lanced through her skull. Her vision flashed white, and her grip on the handlebars faltered. The motorcycle lurched, tires screeching, nearly throwing her off as she wrestled the machine back under control. She skidded to a stop, heart hammering, hands clutching the brakes like a lifeline. Her head snapped up, pupils constricting.

"No... no... no..."

Three figures stood beneath the dim parking lot lights a few feet away, people close to her heart. Kevon, Emani, Raven, and Victor.

They weren't just standing but waiting for any faint movement or action. Master Raven could see it in their expressions - worry and pain. Her breath caught, and before she even realized what she was doing, her hands shot to her head as if she could claw the agony out of her skull.

Bzzt.

"D-don't make me do this..."

Kevon swallowed hard, stepping forward as cautiously as a man approaching a wounded animal. "Breathe, Ty."

"Shut up!" she snapped, her head jerking up.

Her eyes burned—not just with fury but with something rawer. Red energy wisps coiled around her body, flickering like embers waiting to ignite. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, but they didn't fall.

"You don't get it." Her voice trembled, but her stance never wavered. "I... can't control it. I can't... I won't!"

Raven instinctively took a step back.

Shing!

Victor's blade flashed in the dim light. Master Raven moved in a blur of motion. She rolled over Victor's blade, twisting midair into a devastating spin kick. Raven barely weaved back in time, the wind from her strike brushing against his jaw.

"Hah!"

Kevon stepped in while swiping his claws, only to have his daughter catch his wrist and shove him back. Emani aimed a sweeping kick, but Master Raven flipped over her extended foot.

Smack!

Kevon's fist slammed into her jaw, pain swelling through Master Raven's skull. Her ki surged.

Poof.

She vanished and reappeared to slam into Raven before deflecting Emani's twin blades just as an arm locked around her throat, and another pinned her free arm behind her back. Raven's grip tightened as he bent back, hooking a leg around hers to keep her grounded.

"Ty! Please stop this!"

She clawed at his arm with ragged breathing, her vision swimming.

Bzzt.

Her parents and Victor began to darken, their forms twisting into shadows that crept closer to suffocate her.

A tear finally slipped down her cheek. 'What am I doing?'

Raven felt the shift in her muscles during the briefest moment of hesitation. "Please, Tatyana. Let us help."

Bzzt.

"GET UP!"

Her heartbeat spiked. Adrenaline flooded her veins. The sorrow in her eyes snapped into rage. Raven inhaled sharply, knowing that look. A split second later, Master Raven's entire body tensed. She whipped her weight backward, flipping over his hold into a cartwheel. Victor's katana slashed, which she barely sidestepped. Kevon lunged as his claws were met with the steel of her chokutō blade.

Shing!

Sparks flew as she drove Master Raven ōdachi into the ground, using it as a pivot to deflect Raven's dagger inches from her throat. She shoved him back and blocked Kevon's kick. A solid shoulder hit from Emani slammed into her solar plexus. Master Raven slid back, coughing, before—

BANG!

Victor's gun clicked into place. Kevon struck while Victor kicked. Even Emani's blows landed one after another in a group effort to subdue her - stomach, chest, collarbone. Raven's dagger flew, which Master Raven blocked with her armored arm as a sharp ringing in her ears occurred. Kevon moved in for a forceful corkscrew kick.

SMACK!

Master Raven collided against the ground hard, blood dripping from her lips as she struggled to rise.

"Ty," Kevon pleaded. "Don't make us do this anymore."

Her fingers tightened around her sword. "I can't..."

The sound of a train thundered in the distance. Master Raven's eyes flicked toward it as she turned and leaped. Within moments, her silhouette vanished into the shadows.

"Tatyana!" Raven yelled.

The train swallowed her whole.

Beneath Adleton Building Construction Site - 11:06 P.M.:

Raven didn't waste time surveying the room—his focus was singular and locked onto the task. He straddled the matte black Vector motorcycle, guiding it smoothly onto the elevator platform. A low electric hum thrummed beneath him, resonating through the steel and concrete as the platform lurched to life. The floor beneath him glowed dim white, casting long, shifting shadows against the cold walls as the elevator ascended into the space above. As soon as it reached its destination, Raven twisted the throttle just enough to ease forward, the soft purr of the engine the only sound in the unsettling stillness.

The bedroom greeted him in eerie silence.

It was primarily clean—yet the signs of destruction were unmistakable. Raven's sharp gaze flicked to the wall corner, where a sizeable concrete chunk had been gouged out, the wound jagged and raw. Dark stains of dried blood marred the surface. Raven exhaled slowly through his nose, the sight sitting heavy in his chest.

On the floor, scattered remnants of the missing wall remained, shards of concrete dusted with crimson lying where they had fallen. Raven's boots made no sound as he stepped forward, his expression grim. The bed was in disarray, its sheets twisted and bunched as if abandoned in haste. Clothes lay strewn across it haphazardly, some clean, others still marked with blood smears.

The walls weren't untouched either.

Raven's eyes tracked the sporadic bloodstains, which dried into the room's crevices—signs of a struggle. Then another hole surfaced, this one deeper, fresher. The blood on the floor stared back at him, jagged edges betraying the force that had created it. He sighed, realizing he had known what to find here. Yet being in this space, standing in the echoes of her torment, made it feel all the more real.

His gaze landed on the desk. A tiny USB drive sat in the dim light, a lone piece of clarity among the chaos. Beside it, his brow furrowed as he picked up a mask, its surface smooth and cold.

'She left this behind?'

For a moment, Raven stared at the mask. Then, with measured care, he returned it to the armor stand where it belonged. Pocketing the USB drive, Raven turned on his heel and returned to the motorcycle. He rolled the throttle and guided the bike toward the catwalk leading into the tunnel.

Sydney, Australia; UN HQ [Underground Lounge] - 11:44 P.M.:

Raven said nothing as he entered the dimly lit room. The weight of his silence alone was enough to command attention.

Victor turned, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. "Raven, what did you—"

Tap.

A small object landed in his palm before Victor even finished his sentence. He lowered his gaze as the pale orange USB drive rested in his hand, the casing dulled by grime and time. What sent a chill down his spine was the single, dried blood fingerprint smeared across its surface. His fingers instinctively curled around it as he looked back at Raven. The agent had dropped into a chair, his posture deceptively relaxed, but his shoulders remained tense. His jaw was tight; his lips pressed into a thin, unyielding line.

Yet, behind the practiced control, Victor saw the fracture lines and a barely contained storm of ranging emotions within his agent.

"Play it," Raven ordered.

Victor sighed, glancing between his weary comrade and the foreboding device in his hand. He could feel it in the air—the weight of whatever they were about to witness. And judging by the look on Raven's face, it wouldn't be good. He slid the USB into the console's port and navigated the files with quick, practiced taps. A single eight-minute video appeared. He hesitated before pressing play.

Master Raven filled the screen.

She stood in a dimly lit safehouse, her figure a shadow against the cold, cracked walls. Her mission suit was still on, but it was tattered and soaked in blood—some her own, some not. The flags on her shoulders were burned and frayed, a visual testament to battles fought. Her eyes—bloodshot, dark-rimmed, hollow—stared at something unseen beyond the lens.

Then—

Crack!

Without warning, she slammed her fist into the cement wall. The stone splintered, fragments crumbling to the floor as she pulled her bruised, bloodied knuckles free. She didn't even flinch. Instead, red energy wisps flickered around her fingers, twisting and coiling like embers caught in the wind. Her breathing was erratic, lips curled with an expression that wasn't a smile.

"I can't feel anything anymore," she murmured, her voice low, almost hypnotic. "Pain doesn't hurt. Everything is numb. And the anger... feels better."

Her shoulders shook before a manic laugh devoid of warmth sounded—a hollow, fractured thing.

"I hate it, how much better I feel. I hate it!"

A shuddering inhale. Master Raven's hands shot up, gripping her head as her breath came in ragged bursts.

"Fuck... fuck," she gasped. "Make it stop... MAKE IT STOP!"

Then, a deafening scream - a raw, piercing wail that distorted the speakers, rattling through the room before the screen abruptly cut to black.

Master Raven was now seated at a desk, idly twirling a throwing needle between her fingers. The camera's angle was different, but the tension was the same. Her posture was eerily relaxed, and her half-lidded eyes were fixed on the needle like a predator contemplating its next move. A low chuckle escaped her lips, continuous and unnerving like she was laughing at a joke no one else could hear.

"Y'know," she mused, her voice lilting. "Stuck with this new perspective... I can tell I'm losing it."

The needle stilled, pressed against the curve of her palm. Her other hand clenched into a tight fist, trembling slightly.

"Fucking..."

She stood abruptly, her movements sharp, restless. One hand dragged through her frizzed braids, tugging as if trying to ground herself in reality.

"Look, I didn't kill him, even though the fat bastard deserved it," Master Raven muttered, voice raw in referring to Toby. "I wanted to hear him scream. Haruto wasn't as... lucky."

Her body jerked, and her eyes snapped shut with an almost painful squeeze.

"Stop."

Her head violently shook.

"Shut up!" she suddenly snapped, whirling—but no one was there.

Ralin's eyes widened from across the room. "Is she... hallucinating?"

No one dared to answer.

But the way Master Raven moved—her head twitched slightly, her eyes flickered toward empty spaces—it was as if someone unseen was whispering just beside her ear. She now stood, a newly notched ōdachi in hand, its blade gleaming under the dim lighting. Dark red streaks marred its length. She ran a cloth over it absently, her lips barely parting as she spoke.

"Toby and his idiots were nothing more than a warm-up. I'm sure soldiers have swarmed his little shop by now."

She exhaled, slow, measured. "I don't regret it. At all. Those fools deserved every inch of my blade. I did have help in Xeon. Don't bother asking questions about him."

Her eyes flickered toward the camera, amusement curling at the edges of her expression.

"If you need to know where I'm going..." she mused, voice playful but deadly. "I'll be in Russia. Siberia, to be exact. Xeon knows a lot more than I thought."

Another abrupt cut occurred before showing Master Raven slumped in the chair. Her hands and knuckles, newly raw and bleeding, rested on the desk. Each finger trembled, betraying a weakness she had desperately tried to hide.

"I..."

Her voice cracked as she swallowed hard. "I'm so sorry."

A broken breath.

"You all must hate me now. Mom... Dad... Victor... Li... Rashad..."

She exhaled shakily, her whole body trembling. "I don't deserve this anymore."

Her hands came up, covering her face, her shoulders quaking.

"I just want to go home," she whispered between sobs. "I hate it so much. I'm losing myself and can't escape it..."

The following words came out: choked, strangled. "Just fucking kill me... please. I don't want to do this anymore."

Her voice utterly broke. "Just kill me—"

The video glitched, cutting back one last time. Master Raven stood, gripping the desk, her posture once again rigid. A low, bitter laugh bubbled up from her chest.

"I wanted to kill him so bad!" she suddenly shouted, voice raw and furious.

Then—a sigh. Master Raven's laughter faded, something eerily close to clarity settling.

Bzzt.

She exhaled. "I... can't tell if I'm becoming the thing I hate or finally freeing myself from being... controlled."

A smirk showed—empty, hollow. "Why hold back? What's the point? We kill... and believe we're the good people?"

Bzzt!

Her hand shot to her head. The screen froze before the recording abruptly ended.

Raven raked his hands into his hair, his breath slow, measured, and dangerously controlled. Beside him, Emani gripped her husband's hand, desperate to contain her heartbreak.

Kevon clenched his jaw, his tone full of determination. "We will find her if it's the last thing I do. I promise."

Unknown Location - 11:53 P.M.:

Master Raven clutched her abdomen, digging into her skin as if she could stop the ache from spreading. Her stomach burned with a dull, sharp throb that radiated through her entire body. She stood frozen, trembling by the force of her own feelings. Her fist clenched tightly and quivered in response to the helplessness within her.

A small, bitter laugh escaped her lips—sad, hollow, like the last remnants of something broken. It felt strange, not the familiar fury she had come to rely on, but a different, sharper sting. A painful awareness of all she had become. Today, for the first time in so long, she felt something other than rage.

The sharp sting of pain from her bruised and battered body, the weight of becoming her parents' burden, the very thought like a suffocating weight pressing down on her chest. Then, an aching pain of being hit not just physically but emotionally. A stab of discomfort twisted through her as she recalled Raven's arms tightly restraining her. His touch had once felt like safety, a welcome tenderness away from scrutinizing eyes. Now, it felt like a tether to the agony she couldn't escape.

Master Raven felt everything - the hurt and broken pieces of herself she tried so desperately to keep hidden beneath a hardened exterior.

Her hand trembled as she pressed against her stomach, fingers still shaking from conflicting emotions. It took all her gathered willpower not to collapse, but she took a gradual, deep breath. The cold, fresh air seeping through the cracks of the train's aging windows pierced the fog clouding her mind. She let frigid oxygen fill her lungs, a balm slowly dousing the fire ravaging her body and mind.

As the coolness seeped into her skin, the red haze that had suffocated her thoughts began to lift. The world, once colored in fiery shades of anger, slowly reverted to normal if there was such a thing. The fog of fury, however suffocating, started to recede, leaving her mind clear for the first time in what felt like days. She could finally breathe again, and it was enough for a fleeting moment.

Then, the vibration of her phone broke the fragile peace Master Raven had managed to carve out of the chaos.

An irritated growl bubbled up in her throat as she grabbed the phone, her fingers still trembling with aftershocks of the storm she'd just weathered. She swiped the screen, her voice cold as ice as she answered the call.

"What?"

"Sounds like you made it."

Master Raven's brows furrowed, a flash of suspicion crossing her face. "I was... fortunate. Nearly missed boarding."

Xeon chuckled, a hint of something almost mocking in his tone. "Be sure to keep a coat. Siberia is cold this time of year. And don't worry about your boyfriend. I'll be sure to send him my condolences."

The words struck like a cold slap across her face. Master Raven's chest tightened at the sting of those words before she fully processed them.

"How do you even know any of this?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, yet it vibrated with suspicion.

"It pays to stay silent and stay in the background. People talk when they don't think you're listening. As for Raven, he and I have history. Good luck with Doc, Master Raven. I'll be in touch."

Beep.

The line went dead, leaving only the train's dull hum movement. Master Raven stared at the phone screen for a moment longer, the conversation's coldness gnawing at her. In the muteness that followed, an unshakable feeling settled in her gut—a sense he manipulated like a puppet on a string. But there was no time to dwell.

With a resigned sigh, Master Raven dropped her phone onto the seat beside her, sinking back into the worn fabric. She closed her eyes, letting the constant clanking of the train's wheels on the metal tracks lull her into a temporary peace. Outside, the wind howled and battered against the windows. Siberia's chill pressed against the train walls, but still inside. The faint, steady rock of the train seemed to settle her for a moment, like the rhythmic heart pulse—steady, constant. It was the only thing that made sense right now.

The quiet's brief sanctuary allowed Master Raven to give a small, fragile smile. It was fleeting but genuine, and for the first time in ages, she had felt something other than anger or pain—a strange satisfaction that perhaps she had something else to hold onto.

But the moment shattered as quickly as it had appeared.

Her smile faltered, and her body went limp. The weight of exhaustion—an emotional, physical, and psychological toll—finally overcame her. The train's rocking motion lulled her into unconsciousness, her body sinking into the worn seat, her muscles too fatigued to fight it any longer.

Master Raven slipped into a death-like stillness, her mind finally succumbing to the peace of an unconscious void. For once, her thoughts didn't torment her. The false realities, fears, and haunting whispers of everything she couldn't escape fell silent, their sharp edges dulled by the thick, dark curtain of sleep.

In the train's infinite quiet, Master Raven was at last free, even if only until her arrival.